Deadly Obsession Part 19

"That's not what I saw a few nights ago," Damien said.

Cole walked back around the breakfast bar and leaned against the corner of the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "She's attractive all right, but I'm not interested in a relations.h.i.+p."

Damien s.h.i.+fted in his seat, his shoulders visibly relaxing in the softness of his long-sleeved tee. "So you wouldn't mind...."

"What? If you asked her out?"

"Yeah. She's hot."

"What about Cindy?"

"What about her?"

"d.a.m.n, Damien," Cole cursed. "You have no cla.s.s."

Damien snickered. "Rock stars never did have that quality. But, hey, Cindy'

s here for the moment-right?"

"Yeah," Cole laughed. "She's probably waiting for you in your bed as we speak."

"And who am I to deny?"

Cole watched as Damien stood and walked to his room, closing the door beh ind him. Cole shook his head, shut the light off, and headed for his own room. Somehow, Cindy suddenly looked too good for Damien Vincent. His hea rt went out to the small blonde. After all, what had she ever done to des erve Damien?

Laurie could not sleep and was sure the cause could only be linked to one C ole Kincaid. Her head ached and not a Tylenol could be found in the house, though little good it would do. When her head ached this badly only ibuprof en would do the trick.

Searching the aisles of the same Convenient Food Mart where Cole had purcha sed the wine, Laurie looked for a bottle of Advil. She caught sight of the little yellow box, reached for it, and headed for the counter. She had to b e nuts to be out at two-thirty in the morning, Laurie thought, looking like something the cat dragged in. Seven in the morning and time to go to work would come all too soon.

"Excuse me," came a voice from behind.

Laurie jumped, startled by the interruption in her musings. G.o.d, but she h ad been jumpy lately. She turned around, glancing up at a wiry looking man with thin blondish-brown hair, recognizing him immediately.

"Don't I know you?" he asked.

Laurie smiled, tucking one side of her hair behind an ear, self-conscious at being caught without makeup. "Hi," she held out her hand. "Laurie Michaels.

I believe I've seen you play a couple of times."

"Yeah," he said, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, rock ing back on his heels. "You were with that cop, Kincaid."

"Well, we sat together." She grinned, shrugging her shoulders. "We weren't exactly together . And you are?"

"Sandy Brown," he chuckled. "I know, not a name a mother should have giv en a boy."

"I like it. I think it has a nice ring to it. People aren't likely to forget your n ame."

"What's got you out so late?" he asked.

Laurie held up the yellow box. "Advil," she grinned. "I had a terrible headac he and nothing to take for it. What are you up to?"

He nodded his head toward the back of the store. "Coffee," he said.

Laurie drew her brows together. "Coffee?"

"Well, I don't drink. And I'm not really tired yet, just getting done with t he gig and all. Damien and I usually go out and do something but he's been k ind of preoccupied lately. Being new here, I really don't know many people."

Laurie thought to offer him her company at another time, but did not want t o give him the wrong impression. Sandy Brown was not her type with the long hair and rock-n-roll lifestyle. "I better get home and take care of this h eadache, but it was nice meeting you."

"Yeah, come see us play again sometime."

Laurie smiled. "I'd like that."

She gave him her back and stepped to the counter. The clerk rang the sale; Laurie handed her the exact change, then walked out the door.

Crawling into her red Acura, she turned on the ignition, threw it into gear, and headed for home. Laurie tore into the box and cursed the silver safety se al as she tried desperately to get into the bottle. Finally retrieving two or ange tablets, she tossed them back in her throat and swallowed.

She settled more firmly into her seat and headed onto the freeway, waiting for the blessed medicine to do its magic. Now, if only she could rid her th oughts of Cole Kincaid as easily as the Advil would work on her headache.

Chapter 18.

Cole paced the confines of his office, impatiently waiting the arrival of o ne Nicholas Darby. Frank Cooper and Sam O'Riley had been sent over to give him a personal police escort to the station. Darby would likely be mad enou gh to spit nails. But at the moment, Cole could care less. His mood had bee n foul when he woke this morning and little had happened to change that sin ce coming to the station.

Shortly after arriving, he paid Chief McCray a visit and pointed out his fi ndings where the good Mr. Darby was concerned. John had not hesitated in hi s agreement when Cole wanted to bring Darby in for further questioning.

Laurie Michaels' story ent.i.tled, "Vampire Strikes Fairview," arrived soon t hereafter via the fax. On the whole, Cole had been pleased as he could be w ith it and faxed back the piece untouched. The story would hit the newsstan ds through the paper Westlife by late afternoon. The station would be bomba rded with calls. Cole only hoped he was long gone well before then.

The Plain Dealer , a morning paper, would not carry the piece until tomorr ow. By Sat.u.r.day morning, all of Northeast Ohio would be made aware of thei r situation and the pressure to find the killer would be on. Cole would on ce again make headlines.

He released the breath he held and shook his head. d.a.m.n this son of a b.i.t.c.h for putting him back where he did not want to be. He would rather cut off hi s right hand than place himself in the public eye.

And who would be there right beside him? Laurie Michaels-scrutinizing his every action.

Cole looked out his door to see a red-faced Nicholas Darby being escorted t o the interrogation room. It was the only thing that put a smile back on hi s face. At least someone was due to have a day worse than he-and who better than Nicholas Darby.

Cole grabbed his tape recorder, pencil, and paper off his desk and headed fo r the small room.

"Go easy on him," Cole heard the chief say behind him, though he continued on his way undaunted. He would go easy all right-after he threatened to sla p on the cuffs and charge him with three counts of first-degree murder.

Of course, all the evidence they had at the moment was circ.u.mstantial and no thing tied Darby to all three murders, and, unfortunately, Cole's gut told h im Darby had not committed these horrific crimes. But the look on his face a t the threat of being charged would be worth it.

Sam O'Riley stood outside the door of the interrogation room with his arms crossed over his chest, doing once again what he did best, acting guard d og. Who in their right mind would want to cross him when he had muscles bu lging almost to unnatural proportions from beneath his uniform?

With a nod, Cole acknowledged Sam and entered the room, knowing he would s tand as witness behind the one-sided gla.s.s. Nicholas paced the small room and had it been any colder in there, Cole swore steam might rise from the top of his blond head. "Have a seat, Mr. Darby," Cole said in a calm voice . He had no desire to turn this into an all out war between the two of the m, though the animosity hung so thick it could have been cut with a knife.

"What the h.e.l.l is this about, Lieutenant?" Darby roared as he placed his han ds on the table and glared at Cole. "I had a tennis match with some very imp ortant people scheduled...potential clients. I swear, Kincaid, if you mess t his up for me-"

"You'll what?" Cole chuckled, raising a brow. "At this point you're not in any position to make threats. Take a seat so we can get started. The quick er you cooperate-the sooner you're out of here. And believe me, nothing wou ld please me more."

Grumbling, Nicholas took a seat opposite Cole. Cole snapped down the recor d and play b.u.t.ton on the black tape recorder, then picked up his pencil. B ut before beginning, Cole reminded Nicholas of his rights, which he waved.

"Now then, Mr. Darby, I have a few things to clarify with you. In your last interview, you told me you hadn't seen Mary Stine since..." Cole made work o f thumbing through the files on the table, though it was more for show than anything. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nicholas watching him carefully, then extract a handkerchief from his pants pocket and mop at his perspir ing brow. "...just after your daughter's death. As I recall, you said you 'n eeded a release.' Is this correct?"

"Yeah." He laughed, though his cold blue eyes held no humor. His finger dr ummed on the top of the table. "That's what I said."

Cole leafed through the files again, though he knew without a doubt what he was about to say. He just wanted to watch Nicholas sweat.

Finally, he looked up from the files and said, "Let's see," he tapped the er aser of his pencil on the table, "that would have been almost two weeks befo re Mary was killed. Am I correct?"

"Something like that."

"And on August the twelfth, at approximately four in the morning, you were fast asleep in your bed."

"Correct, but I told you all of this the other day when you came to my house.

What the h.e.l.l is the purpose of bringing it up again?"

"Just want to get the facts straight." Cole narrowed his gaze at Nicholas, ca using him to quit tapping his finger as he s.h.i.+fted uneasily in his chair. "Yo u see, Nick , I have a witness that says you were with Mary at exactly that t ime."

Mr. Darby sat silently contemplating what Cole had just told him, his gaze n ervously going to the one-way gla.s.s behind Cole. Nicholas stood suddenly, up setting the chair as it teetered on its hind legs, then went cras.h.i.+ng to the tiled floor, the sound echoing off the room's walls.

"I get it," he chuckled, throwing his hands into the air, "you're trying to get me to say something that isn't true. You got no one who can put me with Mary Stine at four in the morning because I wasn't there."

Cole leaned back in his chair and stretched his feet out in front of him, cro ssing his arms over his chest. "What I have, Mr. Darby, is a witness who will testify to that fact in court if need be. Now, would you care to tell me wha t really happened?"

"s.h.i.+t. You're just looking for someone to pin this on and since you don't hav e a clue as to who is doing it-you're going to try and pin this c.r.a.p on me."

"On the contrary, Mr. Darby. Take a seat," Cole ordered in a deep voice. Nic holas picked his chair off the floor and sat back down. "Let me tell you wha t I think," he hissed through clenched teeth, feeling the ache clear to his jaw, "you were with Mary Stine at four in the morning on the day of August t welfth. I believe you even screwed your brains out. But what I do not believ e is that you took a knife and sliced her throat. I think someone else took those honors. Now why I have you in here is to find out just why you felt th e need to lie about it."

Nicholas chuckled, looking away from Cole, then wiped a palm down his mouth. Glancing back at Cole, he shook his head. "Would you have believed that I didn't do it had I told you so? Even though I was there and someone obv iously waited until I left to kill her?"

"You should have tried."

"Look, Lieutenant, you don't like me any more than I like you. I thought if I told you I was with her-you'd crucify me."

"Contrary to what you think of me, or what I may think of you for that matter , I am a cop first and I serve justice. When I find this killer-I will show h im no mercy. As for you-I expect to hear the truth. I don't want to be draggi ng your rear end down here again. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly. You won't...believe me."

"What I believe, Mr. Darby, is you are a self-serving jerk. Nothing, includi ng your daughter, comes before you. What I don't believe is you're guilty of murder. Is there anything else you want to share with me? I would like to g et the h.e.l.l out of here at a decent hour sometime today."

"There isn't anything else to say. I've told you all I know. Mary Stine was alive when I left her. She walked me outside the motel and we said goodbye.

That's the last I saw of her."

"That's the last anyone saw of her." Cole slid his chair back. The screech of the metal legs sliding across the black and white floor filled the room.

He gathered all his files, shut off the recorder, and headed for the door wh ere he turned back. "O'Riley will give you a ride home. Keep your nose clean , Darby," he said and out the door he walked.

"I don't know, Cindy," Laurie said. "I really don't think I'm up for clubbing tonight."

Cindy pulled her past the foyer, through the kitchen, and into the family ro om, where they both took a seat on the couch.

Laurie was in no mood for a pep talk from Cindy about how all things would somehow work out. Even though she had been more than pleased with the sto ry she had written, and could not be happier that it would appear in the p ages of the Plain Dealer as well, nothing seemed to ease the mild depressi on a.s.sailing her. It was as if Cole had managed to sweep her feet right ou t from under her and she had landed with a hard thump on the ground.

"We have to at least celebrate," Cindy prodded in a well-practiced pout.

"That may work on Damien, but it doesn't on me." Laurie grinned.

"Ah," she raised a thinly plucked brow heavenward, "but it got a smile from you. Look, you can't sulk around here all night by yourself. What purpose would that serve?"

"Ice cream smothered in fudge would make me feel much better." Laurie com mented on Cindy's other reason for dropping by. "But I don't want to go s ee Damien and his band play afterwards. Is it a deal?" "All right, we'll do things your way...for now." Cindy narrowed her eyes. "

But put on something a little less frumpy just in case you change your mind .".

"Like what you're wearing?" Laurie asked, raising a brow at the absurdity.

Cindy's cut-off Levi's were so short her b.u.t.t cheeks hung out the bottom wh ile her shear blousy white top gave a good view of a fancy decorated bra be neath. White cowboy boots over freshly shaven legs finished her attire.

"You'd never be this bold...but yeah, something similar." Cindy held her han ds up to stop the words forming in Laurie's mind. "Just ice cream. And then if you still want to go home, I'll drop you off."

"We'll drive separate, thank you." Laurie was not about to allow Cindy to l eave her stranded again. "Give me a few seconds and I'll get changed."

Moments later, Cindy and Laurie were in a nearby TCBY, sitting across from one another at a green-topped table. Cindy scooped up a spoonful of vanilla yogurt with fudge dripping sinfully from it.

"Tell me about the article," Cindy said before placing the frozen delicacy in her mouth.

"You read it, didn't you?" Laurie asked. Cindy nodded, then placed another spoonful in her mouth. "Then what's there to tell?"

Cindy shrugged her shoulders, but could not hide the smile growing on her f ace to show feigned disinterest. "You worked with Cole on it, right?"

The knife s.h.i.+fted in her heart at the mention of his name. Until now, Lauri e had successfully filed away his memory if only for a few blessed moments.

She jabbed her spoon into the brown and white melting goo in her bowl. "Ye s, Cole and I worked together. He told me what I could print, and I wrote i t. End of story."

"What? He didn't try to explain the other night?"