Deadly Obsession Part 31

"Oh, G.o.d, Cole." Her voice shook with fear. "I'm so glad you're there."

"What is it, Laurie?" He could hear the unshed tears in her voice as she tri ed to hold herself together. "Calm down and tell me what has you so upset."

"Please get over here-I'm so scared."

"Laurie, tell me what the problem is. I can't help you if you don't tell me."

There was a lengthy pause as he heard her unfolding what sounded like a pie ce of paper. "I received something in the mail today."

"Read it to me." A chill ran down Cole's back as the room temperature seem ed to drop ten degrees in the span of a mere second.

"It says ' The disease-for not to be all well is a disease-interest me, and t he sweet young dear, she interest me, too. She charms me, and for her, if not for you or disease, I come. '"

"Laurie," Cole said, apprehension creeping into his own voice as he finished writing the missive in his notebook. "Place the paper on the table and don't touch it again. I'll need to have it sprayed for prints. Make sure your door s are locked and your alarm is on. I can be there in a matter of minutes."

"Please hurry."

Cole slammed the receiver on its base, grasped his jacket, hanging on the back of the chair, and headed for the door. At John McCray's office, he po ked his head into the opened doorway where he encountered Jim Mathers agai n.

"Come in, Cole," John motioned. "We were just talking about you. Jim was t elling me what a fantastic job he thought you were doing on the case."

"That's good. But right now, I don't have the time." Cole shoved his arms in to his jacket, then straightened the collar. "We have another lead."

Jim's gaze flitted to Cole. Excitement filled the cores of his dark eyes.

"There's been another quote, and I'll lay odds by the way it's written, it comes from the same source: Bram Stoker's Dracula ."

"What is it?" Jim asked.

Cole flipped open the note pad and read to Jim what Laurie had moments ag o.

Jim's eyes widened. "Where'd you get this?"

"Laurie Michaels, the reporter working with us, just called me. She received it in today's mail."

"You thinking what I'm thinking, Jim?" John asked.

"Our perp has just picked his next prey," Jim said, running a hand down his jaw.

"I'm going over there now, but maybe it would be wise to put her under surv eillance." "I think you're right, Cole," John said. "I'll send two unmarked cars over to her place."

"Don't make it obvious," Jim said. "We want to catch the little p.r.i.c.k. h.e.l.l, maybe we could use her as bait-"

"No way," Cole interrupted. "I won't let you put her in jeopardy."

"Jim has a point, Cole. It might be a way to flush this piece of c.r.a.p out," Jo hn agreed with the agent.

Heat rose in Cole's face; his ire peaked. "No way in h.e.l.l!" he roared. "Laur ie has been through enough with the VanWarren suicide. I won't allow you to put her life at risk."

"Why don't you let her decide," Jim stated as he rose. "As a matter of fact, I think I'll accompany you on your way over there."

Without them finding out about his involvement with Laurie, Cole could do no thing short of agreeing to let Jim Mathers tag along. How the h.e.l.l did he al low things to get so far out of control? The last thing he wanted was to use Laurie as a p.a.w.n in this twisted son of a b.i.t.c.h's game. Cole had to find hi m-and fast, or chance losing Laurie to the same fate as his late wife.

Chapter 28.

Cole glanced down the short street as he approached Laurie's front door. An unmarked pale-blue sedan sat at the beginning of the street. Real obvious, Cole thought, shaking his head. He highly doubted it would go unnoticed by the murderer either.

He stepped up to Laurie's door, Jim close on his tail, hoping like h.e.l.l she wou ld not give away their relationship, at least not until after the investigation .

The door flew open even before he had time to knock. Laurie hesitated as th ough she were about to fly into his arms before noting the tall man behind Cole, then stepped back to allow them to enter.

At any other time, Cole would have welcomed her gladly into his embrace. H e wanted nothing more than to protect her from the evil that had arrived o n her doorstep. Of course, Cole had wanted to know the ident.i.ty of the nex t selected victim, but he had not counted on the murderer's choice. d.a.m.n t he SOB to h.e.l.l.

"Miss Michaels," Cole greeted formally, "this is Agent James Mathers with t he FBI. He's here to a.s.sist me on the case."

"Please," Laurie said, her voice trembling as she stiffened her spine, "call me Laurie."

"Laurie." Cole smiled hoping to defuse the tense situation. "Can you show me where you laid the note you called me about earlier?"

She pointed to the kitchen. "It's in there, on the table. I didn't touch it again, just like you said."

Tears brimmed in her eyes as she looked at Cole. His heart ached to pull her into his protective hold and shield her from everything harmful.

Jim walked past them into the kitchen without waiting for the invite, paying them little mind. Cole laid his palm briefly on her cheek as she leaned into the heat of his touch. A single tear slipped past its barrier. Cole brushed i t away with his thumb.

"I'll protect you with my life," he whispered, knowing without a doubt he wo uld hold true to his promise, even with his very last breath.

"I know you will." Her eyes showed the comfort his pledge offered.

Cole walked past her to where Jim stood, studying the note. The quote stare d back at him in their perp's handwriting, just like the last found quote.

He had gone beyond bold; he was getting d.a.m.ned c.o.c.ky.

"We can take it in and have it sprayed with ninhydrin, see what develops, b ut I bet our boy is smarter than that. I would lay odds this missive will t urn up nothing. And without anything to compare his handwriting to..." Jim shrugged. Then turning to Laurie, he asked, "What about the envelope?"

"It's on the counter." She pointed to the center island, containing a stainles s steel sink. The white envelope looked like a lost ship out to sea on her spo tless brick-colored counter top. "I didn't want to chance touching it again."

Jim took a rubber glove from his pocket and a couple of plastic bags. After inserting the paper in one and the envelope in another, he handed the bags t o Cole to tag as evidence.

"Our boy comes from right next door by the looks of the postmark or at least he mailed it within Cleveland city's limits," Jim said. "We'll need to fing erprint you at the station so we can determine your latent on the note, Laur ie." He looked at Cole. "We'll also need to test the envelope for DNA, see i f we can get anything from where the son of a b.i.t.c.h licked it."

"I don't have a problem with that," Laurie agreed, her arms wrapped around herself in what appeared to be an attempt to stay warm. Cole had a feeling, until they caught this murderer, Laurie would not likely succeed.

"We'll also need to question you. Is now okay?" Jim asked.

Laurie appeared ready to take flight when Cole jumped in. "For crying out loud, Jim. This poor woman has been through enough already. Say what you h ave to say here, then when she's less shaken, we'll have her come in for a statement and fingerprinting."

Jim glared at Cole. This was the second time today he had refused to bring in someone upon Jim's request, first with Damien, now with Laurie. He would bet the agent was losing any patience he might have. Cole treaded on ve ry thin ice.

Finally, a tense Jim turned to Laurie. "We set up a surveillance of your hou se and its perimeter. There's one man out front and one out back. Here, you are safe. Leave this house alone, and we cannot guarantee your safety. Is th at clear?"

"Yes," Laurie said, her voice still quivering.

"When you're ready to come in, call and I'll send a car for you."

Laurie nodded.

"We've come up with an idea that might help catch this man, but we're goin g to need your help," Jim said. "Are you willing?"

Laurie glanced at Cole. He stood motionless, clenching his jaw. He hoped Lau rie would refuse. But instead she said, "I'll help in any way I can."

Cole's gaze snapped to Laurie. "Like h.e.l.l you-"

Laurie brought back her shoulders and interrupted Cole, saying, "I know Lieut enant Kincaid seems to have reservations on using me as a decoy, but if it'll help to catch the murderer...I'll do it."

Cole paced the small confines of his office, waiting for the results on the c ar as well as the prints on the paper. Laurie had said she would come in the following day to give her own prints. Though the dusting of the car could be done in a few hours, the prints on the paper could take up to twenty-four.

Cole had been eating, sleeping, and breathing this case the last few weeks.

With the exception of being distracted by Laurie, everything he did revolved around finding this perp.

He'd had hours of brainstorming with his detectives, and still they turned up nil. All evidence was circ.u.mstantial. And at the moment, what evidence t hey did have pointed at his doorstep, though he hated to admit as much.

Damien Vincent.

All Cole needed was one positive lead, and he would arrest Damien if the e vidence proved, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the singer killed those women.

They had a size eleven boot print, a long black hair, black fibers, cloth type gloves, three identified victims-one unidentified, three quotes from Bram Sto ker's Dracula , telling them their perp liked to read cla.s.sics, a good imprint of his bite, and a penchant for blood.

Damien wore size eleven shoes, had long black hair, and wore black clothes.

He was connected to one of the four victims. The incident where Damien had licked the blood from Laurie's finger in Cole's presence didn't bode well for the singer. If he could find Damien in possession of the boots matching the cast he had made, or the cloth gloves, it might be just the thing to t ie him to all the cases. But without a proper search warrant, Cole could not search Damien's room, even if it was part of his own apartment.

And for a search warrant-Cole needed probable cause. Right now he had squat . No judge in this circuit would issue the warrant on what little they had against Damien.

Besides, Cole still had a gut feeling they were looking at the wrong man. So mething did not feel right about their case against him. Damien Vincent was not the man they were looking for. Cole just needed to prove it, but he sure ly did not want to use Laurie to do so.

Jim Mathers walked into Cole's office carrying a sheet of paper, deep in tho ught.

"What do you have, Jim?" Cole asked as he sat behind his desk.

Jim took a seat across from him. "I just got a fax from the bureau. Seems the y finally ID'd the other victim in the case."

"From around here?" Cole asked, sitting taller in his seat as adrenaline flow ed through his veins. This is what a detective lived for, anything that might make their case.

"No. It appears she came from a place west of here. Ever hear of Bryan, Ohi o?"

"Yes, I've heard of it. It's a small town."

"Her name is Jill Anderson. Seems she's been missing a couple of months.

Seventeen, ran away from home," Jim told him. "Typical story-runaway turn s prost.i.tute."

"Do you have a picture?"

Jim handed Cole the faxed photo of the missing girl. His breath caught in h is throat as the room seemed to fade and his ears began to ring. His whole body numbed. He had seen this girl; she had been in his apartment.

"What's the matter?" Jim asked, looking at Cole strangely. "You look like you've seen a ghost. You know this girl?"

"I've seen her before," Cole said in all honesty. "Alive. But I didn't recog nize the body." At this point, he was not ready to confess where. Damien Vin cent had at one time brought this girl home.

If he told Jim, he would want to haul Damien in for questioning immediate ly, if not book him on murder one, and Cole was not exactly sure that the timing would be right. He needed the two days to prove the theory wrong: that Damien Vincent murdered four women in cold blood. Monday would be s oon enough.

"What else do you have on her?" Cole asked, handing back the faxed photo.

The agent relaxed in his chair and steepled his hands in front of him. "Not much, but my guess would be if we showed the picture around, we'd find out my hypothesis is right, that she walked the streets for a living. Our perp began by killing prost.i.tutes and this woman was the first one to die...as far as we know anyway," Jim added as an afterthought. "Did you do a check, see if anyone else might have an unsolved case matching the MO and signatur e of our guy?"

"Yeah," Cole said. "Nothing so far. It almost appears that he didn't start his killing spree until he stepped foot in our city. Lucky us, huh?"

"I bet if we look hard enough, we'll find other cases in other towns. But it'

s a small possibility that he didn't start killing until he got here. I'll ha ve the bureau check for s.e.xual deviants, maybe someone who's done some time, strange s.e.xual oddities, that kind of thing. Chances are, some station brough t him up on charges before. He didn't just develop these twisted fantasies-th is s.h.i.t's been living with them for years. He had to have been brought in one time or another."

"You're probably right," Cole agreed. "But so far, I've found nothing."

Jim looked at his watch. He stood, grabbed his coat and said, "I think I'll h ead back to the hotel and get some shut eye. You eat yet?"

"Yeah, I grabbed a bite a couple of hours ago."

"Well, tomorrow's another day. You go to church?"

"No," Cole said, drawing his brows together. "Why? You want me to pray fo r us?"

Jim laughed. "h.e.l.l, no amount of praying is going to help me I'm afraid. I ju st wanted to see what time you'd be rolling in tomorrow. After all, it is Sun day."

"I'll get here early," Cole said, standing. He grasped his gray jacket and put his arms into the sleeves, then straightened the collar around his neck.