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A gloved hand grasps his head, pinning it to the headrest of the seat. And be fore the detective can utter a sound, the metal of the knife flashes from the glow of the late day's sun, slipping cleanly through flesh, jugulars, and th e larynx, nearly decapitating the man. Blood splatters from the air being for ced from the lungs as the heart continues to pump the life's fluid.
A bloodied glove pushes the detective forward; his head rests on the steerin g wheel.
Turkey and rye falls to the floor.
Laurie ran a dust cloth over her furniture. She had dusted two days earlier, but she needed to keep her mind preoccupied. Cole said he would be running late tonight due to the fact they had a viable suspect to question.
Damien Vincent.
Laurie shivered as she recalled the time he sucked the blood from her fing er. She knew Damien was evil. But she had never guessed how deep his depra vity actually went. Could he possibly have been responsible for the four v iolent deaths?
Cole lived with the singer for two years and Laurie had a hard time believ ing he could have read Damien Vincent so wrong. Cole's instincts always se emed right on the mark.
She sat on the edge of her chair in the formal living room, staring at the walnut-finished wall clock as the pendulum swung back and forth. She could almost see the victims' faces as the blade swiped cleanly across their thro ats. None of them had had a chance-none of them saw it coming.
Cole said there was no sign of struggle with any of the victims, so that wo uld mean the victim had to have trusted the a.s.sailant who struck from behin d. Damien Vincent was a master at seduction. She, too, had been held captiv e by his hypnotizing eyes more than once.
Laurie's thoughts drifted to Cindy VanWarren. She had been lucky to escape with her life, only to end it tragically herself. Another death Damien Vinc ent should be held accountable for, though not by law.
Her heart clenched. Laurie missed her friend.
The doorbell rang, bringing Laurie from her musings. She glanced at the clo ck on the wall. Eight-ten. Cole was early. Maybe with any luck, Damien had confessed to all of the murders and they could now put the horror far behin d them and get on with their lives.
The bell rang again.
"Coming," Laurie called out as she laid her dust cloth on the kitchen counte r, heading for the door.
"Jill Anderson ," Cole repeated. "I'm sure you're aware I know her."
Jim's face turned hard; his mouth nothing more than a slit as he narrowed hi s eyes at Cole but refrained from castrating him in front of the suspect lik e Cole knew he wanted to.
Damien shrugged his shoulders, and leaned back in his chair, stretching his l ong legs out in front of him. "So what's she got to do with this investigatio n?"
"She was one of the victims," Cole told him.
Damien's jaw tensed though no other muscle in his body moved. "So you think I killed her, too," Damien said in a controlled voice.
"You tell me. Did you know Mary Stine? Shana Darby? Or were they just pi ck-ups for you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Damien said, his eyes taking in th e stack of manila envelopes at Jim's right hand side.
"Sure you do," Jim said, picking up on Damien's eye movement. He patted the pile of files. "We have it all right here. What you did with each girl, wh ere you left them."
Jim opened the top file and threw a couple of crime scene photos on the tab le in front of Damien. The first photo showed a close up of Victoria Stanto n's neck with the purplish bite marks, the second showed the inside of Mary Stine's motel room, blood splashed every where, and the third showed a clo se up of what was left of Jill Anderson.
Damien turned his head, looking to the gray wall just feet beyond the table.
His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat.
"You got the wrong guy," Damien said in a softer tone.
Jim leaned in. "Then prove it."
Damien narrowed his eyes as he turned his hate-filled glare on the agent. "
You prove I did," he spat. "You don't have anything on me."
"We have a size eleven shoe print. We have you connected to two of the d eceased women. We have a long black hair found on Shana Darby's body. We know the perp wore black clothes," Jim said, never once taking his eyes off Damien.
"You have squat," Damien chuckled, sitting tall in his chair. "I have long bl ack hair, I have size eleven shoes, I wear black clothes, and I knew two of t he four victims. Big deal. None of it proves anything."
"It will prove a h.e.l.l of a lot if your fingerprints match those on the note," Ji m said.
"What note?" Damien asked, looking back at Cole.
"Someone sent a threatening note to Laurie, picking her as the next victim ," Cole said. "Remember the quote I told you about a few weeks ago?"
Damien nodded. "Yeah." "We've found two more since then. One on Victoria Stanton and one sent to Laurie. They all come straight out of Bram Stoker's novel."
"I've never even read the book. I've only watched the movie."
"So you've said." Cole paused and looked into the one-way gla.s.s. "Right now you're our number one suspect, Damien. I hope like h.e.l.l you're right becau se if you're lying..."
The room went silent except for the sound of the camera as the video continu ed to roll. Suddenly, the door opened and Jack Douglas stuck his head in. "T he results came back on the latent," he said. Jim nearly came out of his sea t as he turned to the officer. "They're negative. Not a match."
Laurie looked through the peephole on her door as the caller rang the bell a third time. Although disappointed not to see Cole standing on the other sid e, she was more curious as to why this man was.
Quickly punching in her four-digit code to the alarm, Laurie unbolted the d oor. Upon opening it, she smiled when the caller withdrew a dozen red roses from his back.
"Why thank you." She grinned, accepting the offering.
He wore all black, right down to the hiking boots on his feet, but she figure d it par for the course. Every member of Damien's band wore black; it was par t of their image. She placed the roses in the clear vase sitting on a pedesta l behind her, then returned her attention to her guest.
"Can I offer you something to drink?" she asked, Zeke yipping at her ankles.
"I really don't have the time," he responded.
"Then you came by to simply bring me the flowers?"
" To one of G.o.d's own ," he responded.
Laurie's gaze snapped up to his. "What did you say?"
" Fashioned by His own hand to show us men and other women that there is a heaven where we can enter. " He quoted Bram Stoker eloquently.
Laurie's limbs trembled as she stared into Sandy Brown's empty eyes. For the first time, she realized what was so strange about them. They were th e eyes of a dead man. Cold and without emotion. She backed away from him as he advanced.
The pedestal with the flowers tipped to the floor as her back connected with it. Red and green scattered about the white tiles.
Zeke ran in the opposite direction.
"Please, G.o.d," she whispered as her fingers groped behind her for something , anything.
"He won't help you now," Sandy laughed. "He had his chance. Now I have mine."
He reached out lightening quick and placed a rag over her mouth. Laurie smelled the strong scent of chloroform. Her fingers clawed at his, sc.r.a.ping fles h beneath her nails.
One fingernail snapped.
Her mind went hazy and soon blackness enveloped her.
"s.h.i.t." Cole said as Damien's gaze flew to his.
"Sorry to disappoint you."
"Anything from AFIS yet?" asked Cole.
"Not yet. But if this dirtbag's been arrested for anything before-it's only a matter of time," Jack said before shutting the door and returning to his busin ess.
"You have another wise plan?" Cole glared at Jim.
"Can I go yet?"
"No!" they shouted in unison as Cole and Jim continued to stare each other down.
"We know that Damien is not the killer," Jim said tapping his eraser on the t abletop.
Cole jerked the pencil from his hand. "No kidding."
"I still say this connects to him in some way. After all, he knew two of the four women."
"I knew all four," Damien admitted, his face reddening slightly.
"What?" the two said as one again, then glared at one another before Cole took a seat before Damien.
"Why the h.e.l.l didn't you say something?" Cole asked.
"And implicate myself further?" Damien chuckled. "Yeah, right. Look, I date d each girl once or twice, no big deal."
"Did you know they prost.i.tuted themselves?" Jim asked.
Damien shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't pay for it. I met them at a club. I w as out for a piece of a.s.s, nothing more."
"Shana Darby wasn't old enough to get herself into a club."
"Fake ID," Damien said.
Jack Douglas poked his head back in the door. "Line one, Lieutenant. I think you better take this."
"Kincaid here," he snapped into the receiver he picked up from a table besid e the wall. Heat rose in his face as his body began to tremble and his stoma ch threatened to rid him of its last meal. The detective from behind Laurie'
s house apprised him of the present situation. "Jesus Christ!"
Cole slammed down the receiver and turned to Damien. "Anyone else know you were coming here?"
Damien shrugged. "Why?"
"Because the son of a b.i.t.c.h has Laurie." His world teetered as he grabbed a h old of the table to steady himself. "You all right?" Jim asked, jumping to his feet.
"I'll be fine." Cole batted away his offering hand. He looked back to Dami en. "Laurie knows whoever took her."
Jim narrowed his gaze. "And you know this because..."
"She was scared to death. She would have never opened that door to just an yone. She shut off the alarm and opened the G.o.dd.a.m.ned door. She knew the c aller."
"Maybe she went away with someone," Damien offered.
Cole glared at the singer, wanting nothing more than to break his nose again . "I have a detective with his throat slit from ear to ear. Whoever paid her a visit wasn't making social calls. Who knows I brought you in for question ing?"
"What does this have to do with me?"
"I can tie you to every girl. That tells me it's a strong possibility it's som eone close to you. If that's the case and they knew I brought you in for quest ioning, then they also know I can't be in two places at the same time, leaving Laurie open."
"I told Sandy Brown I wouldn't be making practice tonight, that you were h auling my a.s.s down here to question me for something I didn't do."
Cole turned to Jack who still stood by the door. "Get a fix on Sandy Brown. I f he has a prior, check the prints."
"Right away," Jack said.
"Know where he lives?"
Damien shrugged. "I don't know, man. I've never been there, but he menti oned something about an old warehouse."
Cole looked back at Jack. "See if you can't get an address. Send one of the d.i.c.k's over to Laurie's and do the crime scene. Have Frank Cooper called in to go along."
Jack slipped out the door as Cole turned to Jim. "I'm heading over to Laurie 's. You see what you can find on this p.r.i.c.k and radio me."
"I'll check with the bureau," Jim said, then turned to Damien. "If you can th ink of anything..." Cole heard as he headed out the door, taking the stairs b y two to the Sally Port and out the back of the station to his Ranger.
He hoped to G.o.d time hadn't run out.