Deadly Obsession Part 25

Her small hand ran down the back of his shirt, and for a moment, Damien cl osed his eyes and imagined Laurie's finely manicured hand slipping around his back and down the front of his jeans. Damien groaned as he opened his eyes and saw Cindy's fingers as they slipped within the waistband of his j eans and enclosed his newly formed erection.

"Dammit." He shouldn't allow his imagination to carry him away. He grasp ed her wrist and withdrew her hand. He narrowed his gaze as he turned on Cindy, sending her backing away from his hulking form. "I'm trying to tel l you something."

Her eyes filled with tears as though she read his thoughts. But she said noth ing, only straightened her spine and tried to grasp what dignity she might ha ve left after boldly fondling him.

He cursed himself beneath his breath. Had he not been so obsessed with dar k hair and dark eyes, he might have allowed himself the pleasure. As it wa s, he would go home alone.

Damien swallowed, trying to calm his rising agitation. "Look, Cindy...what I 'm trying to say is-"

"It's been nice," she giggled on a sorrowful hiccup. She placed two fingers ag ainst her lips to try and calm their trembling. "I've been through it all befo re."

His heart went out to her. He had not meant to hurt her. But love her he did not. h.e.l.l, he doubted he was capable of ever loving-including the object of h is latest obsession, Laurie Michaels.

"You sort of got the picture," he said, his voice low, attempting to soothe.

"How could I not?" A fat tear rolled off her lash and down her cheek. She swiped it away with the back of her hand. "For days, you've been making ex cuses."

"I'm sorry," was all he could think to say. "No, you're not," Cindy said. "I'm the one who is sorry. I should have kn own from the first moment I met you that it was Laurie you wanted...not m e. Even now, it wasn't my hand you wanted down your pants-"

"Enough," Damien growled, baring his teeth. How the h.e.l.l had she read his mind so thoroughly? No one, but no one, could lay claim to his thoughts. Th ings were not going as he had planned, escalating out of his control. Surel y, now, Laurie would hear of his callous rejection of her best friend. "Who I want or what I want is not your concern, Cindy."

"Isn't it? Not even when this other person stops the man I love from loving me in return?"

Damien started chuckling. "I would have never fallen in love with you. I'm no t here to trade insults or to be cruel-"

"Aren't you?" she cried, taking a step in his direction. "Just say it, Dami en. I was stupid to fall in love with you. Maybe I was, but that doesn't mea n I can control how I feel and if you think you'll ever get Laurie Michaels- you're wrong. She'll never look twice at you. You're the fool, Damien Vincen t. Can't you see she's in love with Cole Kincaid?"

Heat rose from his toes to his scalp. Of course, he had already suspected as much, but having his fears spoken aloud still licked at his pride. Though h e wanted little else than what went on between the sheets with Laurie, he di d not like her attentions elsewhere. Besides, he had yet to meet a woman who could resist his charm, and, in love with Cole or not, he had caught her st aring at him a time or two.

To Damien, she was worth the chance. "I don't care where her interests lay."

"Oh, no? Your actions tell a different story, Damien. What I said angered yo u; I could see it in your eyes. You'll regret this one day. I swear to you o n my grandmother's grave."

"I'm sure I will," he placated her, though doubted the validity. How could she possibly make him regret the love he turned away, when he did not want it?

A twinge of guilt settled in his chest as he watched the tearful woman hurr y from the room. Who knew, maybe she was right, one day he would live to re gret his decision. After all, had it not been for Laurie Michaels, then may be, just maybe, he could have been content to live with Cindy's love. But t hen again, with the way he conducted his life, there would always be someon e else just around the corner.

Chapter 23.

The orange-red flame licks and claws at the newspaper article until the fire consumes it, the ashes floating to the floor like a black feather. One word remains on the charred paper. Laurie . As though her mere essence will not allow her name to be completely destroyed.

Anger flares inside, a slow burn, his jaw aches from tension. He stares in awe as his gaze fixes on her name; his hands clench, making fists of steel at his sides. Every muscle in his body coils like a whip before it sets its deadly s ight.

At first, he thought to allow her to live, thinking only she could give his l ife the much needed inner peace, to soothe a tortured soul which no one else can. His loins ache of unrequited desire for a woman he can no longer hunger.

She has slandered his presence, defamed all he can be by the simple misunder standing that he alone is responsible for the death of these women. For that , she must die.

"What of Satan?" the soul cries out to the empty room, the sound echoing eer ily off the bare red walls, feeling as though Lucifer now abandons him. He, alone, should not be held accountable for the inbred desires he has no contr ol over, ones that are as much a part of his nature as sin is to Satan.

At this moment, the Prince of Darkness must be pleased with himself and dusting off the red-velvet seat on his right side, waiting for the soul to fail, for t he soul to be sent to join him in the bowels of his own making. But his work is far from done, and before his life is at its tragic end he will see to it that all his desires on this earth be filled.

And if he is to spend the rest of eternity at Satan's right hand, then he wil l not go until he knows what it is like to relinquish his desire on one who i s now so unworthy, Laurie Michaels, an angel if ever there be one. For surely , one as beautiful as she, comes from the Lord above.

Light needs the darkness, and day cannot survive without the night. A balance of good and evil as old as time, for one does not exist without the other. H ad not Eve, free of sin, been attracted to the serpent, believing its lies of becoming like G.o.d, bringing the very core of evil into the world?

Like G.o.d, indeed . Even the soul knows the power of the Lord and that Satan shall fall short in the end. So why, then, take up a battle which he is dest ined to lose on the Day of Judgment? Because he already is, and shall foreve r be, unclean in the eyes of the Lord.

As his mother had never failed to remind him, "Your evil thoughts shall for ever condemn you to h.e.l.l!"

Imagine a poor boy, already knowing his destiny from the first time he notic ed his strong desire to taste the blood from his sister's bleeding wound, and believing he was far below the Lord's forgiveness when she ran screaming f rom the room left with his bite marks as proof to his dastardly deed.

At least with Satan, there is refuge. And the more evil he becomes, the highe r he will be held in esteem. For surely, Satan rewards his trusty servants-an d if this be the case, then there are not many more wicked than he.

The soul's dark eyes focus again on the one remaining word. Laurie . Her time is nearing and unless Cole Kincaid proves to be more brilliant than he, her life will end. But, of course, not until his desire is sated and he takes the one thing Satan is not about to give.

For should he sample a slice of heaven in the way of Laurie Michaels, what c ould possibly allure him to h.e.l.l?

The soul's gaze shifts and focuses on Victoria Stanton's driver's license as it lay on the table like an oblation. He smiles at the picture. She could h ave been thought of as pretty, but he had watched her tease and taunt the me n at the club throughout the night, her hips swaying in a skirt too short an d a top cut too low. The soul picked her to die, to sacrifice her in the fac e of evil. But what he had not counted on was the fact she came from the loi ns of one so prominent. His anger had prompted his unplanned actions and now the game had stepped up to a new level.

For surely they would be looking for him with a vengeance and if he is to co mplete his goal, then soon the time for true beauty must come to an end. Lau rie Michaels' season is but short.

The knife in his right hand cuts a path across his left forearm, leaving a red trail in its wake. Welcoming the blessed pain, he holds the wound over the ch alice, squeezes the arm, and allows his blood to mix with that of the Stanton girl's. Then offering the chalice to all that is dark, he tilts back his head and allows the chilled fluid to pa.s.s over his tongue to end his raging hunger.

Laurie walked into the station and up to the secretarial desk. A pet.i.te brun ette looked up from the paperwork she had been diligently typing.

"May I help you?" she asked, her voice throaty but pleasant. "Miss Michaels, isn't it?"

The last time she paid Lieutenant Kincaid a visit without an appointment, sh e had allowed Officer O'Riley to lead her to Cole's office without being ann ounced. This time she chose to use protocol. After all, she wanted his help- or rather, she needed it.

"Yes," she acknowledged. "I'd like to see Lieutenant Kincaid if he isn't busy .".

"One minute." The girl smiled politely. Laurie figured her to be close to her own age. "I'll check and see if he's in his office."

Laurie heard the buzz of the intercom, then heard Cole's voice come across in the deep tone she had come accustomed to. Her stomach fluttered, nervous at the thought of being near him again.

"There's a Miss Michaels here to see you, Lieutenant. I don't believe she has an appointment," said the brunette, though no malice could be detected in her voice. "Should I send her back or schedule her one?"

"It's all right, Cally," Cole's voice rang clear. "Send her back."

Cally smiled at Laurie. "Lieutenant Kincaid will see you. You may go on b ack. I'm sure you know the way."

"Yes," Laurie said, responding to her smile with one of her own. "I remembe r."

Laurie walked down the short hall to the closed door. Just as she was about to knock, it swung open, catching her off guard.

Cole held the door, looking every bit the businessman in his gray double-brea sted suit jacket, left unb.u.t.toned, and pleated matching trousers. His black s hirt accented his dark complexion. Her heart picked up its pace as she nearly forgot her reason for coming to see him in the first place.

Laurie looked to the ground at the tips of her red pumps. "I need to ask you a favor," she said, knowing she probably had no right.

"Come in." Cole opened the door wider and offered her a seat before taking h is own across from her, behind his desk. "I'll see what I can do."

Looking back at him, Laurie nearly lost all trace of thought as she glanced a t his full lips, remembering all too well what they were capable of.

"Laurie?" he asked, bringing her gaze up to meet his. "Is something wrong?

"No...no," she stammered. "Well, I mean there is-that's why I'm here...or at least I think there might be...but then again, it could be just my imagination .".

Cole chuckled, the sound light and pleasing to her ears as he smiled genuinely at her. Her heart flipped over in her chest.

"Calm down, take a deep breath, and tell me what's got you stammering."

Of course, she could not tell him the real reason she blubbered like an idiot, t hat his affect on her had her talking in circles.

She ran her hands down the front of her linen skirt, took a deep breath, and started over. "I feel like a fool coming to you, but I don't know where els e to turn. And, of course, like I was saying, I may be getting worked up ove r nothing and since Damien is your roommate and all-"

Cole sat straighter in his chair, his expression going solemn. "What's this got to do with Damien?"

Laurie looked to her hands lying in her lap as though she were examining t he fingernail on her thumb. "Have you seen Damien the last few nights?" sh e asked, glancing at him.

Cole appeared to study her expression, not saying a word for what seemed an eternity. Finally, he said, "Of course, I have. It's kind of hard to live wi th him and not see him. Why?"

"This might be nothing, but I haven't seen Cindy since Monday. She hasn't s hown up at work...no phone calls or anything. I've tried calling, driving b y her place. Her car wasn't in the driveway, and the garage windows have cu rtains. I couldn't tell if Cindy's Saturn was in it or not. But I figured i f she wasn't answering her phone, then she wasn't home." She paused for Col e to say something, when he did not, she continued. "Even George, the senio r editor, says he's not heard from her. She never called in sick to work-sh e just didn't show up. That's not like her. Has she been hanging around you r place with Damien by any chance?"

"You want a cup of coffee?" Cole asked out of the blue, as though he wished t o avoid the subject. "I'll get us both one."

Laurie stared at his retreating back as he made his way down the hall and i gnored her last question. She was certain by his response that he knew some thing but did not want to share his knowledge with her.

He returned shortly with two Styrofoam cups, filled with steaming black cof fee. Cole set one in front of her, then returned to his chair behind the de sk. He took a sip from his, then placed the cup back on the desk surface; h e clasped his hands and leaned forward. His eyes narrowed in misplaced symp athy.

"From what Damien has confided in me, he told Cindy on Monday night that he didn't want to see her any more. I think he thought she was getting to o caught up on him and that's not what Damien wanted."

"A typical man," Laurie scoffed, knowing all too well how Cindy must feel.

The poor dear was probably hiding out in her home, refusing to pick up th e phone or answer her door. "You men all seem to run from involvement," sh e said, speaking of Cole as well.

"Maybe you're right." Cole took another sip from his coffee. "Then maybe ag ain-we're looking for that right one."

The comment stung; she knew he had meant it to. But nonetheless, she needed his help. Releasing a humph, she asked, "Is there ever a right one, Lieute nant?"

"I used to think so."

His voice sounded haunted and Laurie knew she had inadvertently brought up memories of his dead wife. She wanted to give herself a swift kick on the backside had she been able to reach it, for she had not meant to cause hi m anguish. But Cole Kincaid always seemed to bring out the worst in her.

"Could you at least ask Damien if he's seen her and if he has, have her cal l me? I'm worried about her more now than when I walked in here."

"I'll do you one better," Cole said. "I'll go to her house and see what I can fi nd out for you. If she's at home, I'll see to it she gives you a call." Laurie wanted to hug him, but knew it would be a mistake. He had yet to fo rgive her for going to see Charley Nash. But could she blame him? She had once again stuck her nose where it did not belong.

She stood and held out her hand, which he shook formally, as if there had never been anything more between them. The hole in her heart grew to mam moth proportions until Laurie thought her chest would cave in. She knew a ll too well how Cindy felt, and suddenly she wanted to run home to her ow n house and hide from the world.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. You don't know what this means to me," she said, tr ying desperately to keep the tremble from her voice. "I'll wait at home for word. Please call me whether you find her or not."

"I'll call," he said, and out the door she walked.

Cole pulled his truck keys from his pocket and headed out the door of his off ice after telling the secretary he was leaving for the day. There were a few things he wanted to check on, he had said.

Moments later, he headed west on Westwood Avenue only a few blocks from t he address he had been given as Cynthia VanWarren's residence. Cole pulle d his black Ranger into the driveway and parked it. Dusk fell about the c ity, but no lights graced the home. All appeared uninhabited inside.

Cole walked around the outside, noticing no unusual activities. Upon leavi ng the station, he had gone directly home and spoke to Damien who said he had not seen or heard from Cindy since late Monday night. Three full days had pa.s.sed.

As he walked around the east side of the house, Cole had decided to go back to his truck and call it a day. Then he noticed an opened window, and due to its small size, a.s.sumed that it lead to the bathroom. Had the air-condit ioning been running, Cole would have thought it odd. But since it was not...i t struck Cole as strange only one window in the house had been left open. T he inside must be sweltering due to the day's heated temperature.

As Cole approached the window, thinking that maybe Cindy thought to take a small, unplanned vacation without telling anyone, he took note of large gre en flies buzzing about the screen. A strong odor which could only be attrib uted to death filtered through the night air, coming from inside.

"Dear Lord in heaven," Cole blasphemed as he peered into the window, the s tench sending his stomach rolling and nearly causing him to lose his hasti ly eaten supper. He could see nothing from his vantage point and knew he w ould have to enter the premises to find the cause of the odor. Why in G.o.d'

s name had no neighbor or pa.s.serby phoned in the strange stench? Surely, s omeone had to have smelled it.

Cole jogged back to his Ranger and grabbed the receiver to his car radio. Af ter calling for backup and informing the station of his immediate plans, Cole approached the house again. Dread sat in the pit of his stomach.

Something died in that house and he would lay odds it was Cynthia VanWarr en.

After knocking loudly several times and receiving no answer, Cole raised h is foot and prayed the dead bolt on the wooden door had not been used. Wit h one swift kick, and an answer to his prayers, the wood casing on the doo rframe splintered and gave way.

The same foul odor a.s.sailed him as soon as the door swung open. Cole wanted nothing more than to run for fresh air, but knew it would only take longer for the olfactory nerves in his nose to deaden.

"Cindy?" he called out, the sound bouncing off the walls, echoing back at him as he entered the darkened home.

Silence greeted him as well as the invisible presence of the Grim Reaper.