Deadly Obsession Part 26

For sure as the sun would rise on the morrow, death had been on this doors tep some days ago. Cole walked swiftly in the direction where the bathroom window had been located.

He paused by the door as his stomach rolled. The smell had been far worse than ordinary death. He had never in his career encountered a smell of dec ay so putrid. The temperature in the house with the windows closed had to be near a hundred with the hot, humid August heat.

If Cindy had been dead for any amount of time, deterioration would have occ urred at a rapid rate. Wis.h.i.+ng for a deep breath to calm his nerves, but kn owing with the smell greeting him that it would not be a wise idea, he ente red the small room.

What awaited him beyond the entrance, sent him to his knees in front of the toilet basin, heaving what he had so desperately tried to keep down. His s tomach now emptied, he took his handkerchief from his breast pocket and wip ed the bile from his mouth as he stared at the woman floating in the bathtu b, barely recognizable.

Her skin had taken on a yellowish-white waxy appearance, making her bloat to unnatural proportions, especially the face. Only once had he encountere d a death such as this, when they had found a man floating, face down in L ake Erie several years back. This stench was far worse, however, from bein g within closed quarters and high temperatures for far too long.

Cole walked to the tub and grasped one wrist from the contaminated water a nd saw the hesitation wounds along with the final fatal one, which had cau sed her to bleed to death. Knowing with little doubt she had committed sui cide, Cole turned around to look for the suicide note she had surely writt en. From his past experiences, Cole knew women most always leave them just as he knew men often did not.

A white paper stared at him from over the sink, taped to the mirror. One name caught his attention at the top of the badly scrawled words, nearly sending the bile back up his throat.

Laurie .

Cindy had addressed the letter to the one friend she had. Jesus, Mary, and J oseph, but how would he ever tell her?

Chapter 24.

Cole thought he would never be rid of the smell. The stench had collected in his clothes, his hair, his sinuses. But two showers later and the use of a lemon-scented shampoo, he was relatively positive, Laurie would not be able to detect the odor of death on him, the last thing he would want when he tol d her that her best friend was dead.

Cole popped another peppermint candy into his mouth, hoping to clear his na sal pa.s.sages of the putrid smell as well. He pulled onto the short road, ne aring her formidable home. He had finished gathering all the needed evidenc e at the scene, then allowed one of the d.i.c.ks to complete the job this one time. The coroner's office had come and retrieved the body. Due to the timi ng of Cindy's break-up with Damien, Cole thought it a safe bet that she had been dead three days. The hour had grown late and he was left with his pro mise to call Laurie with any news he might have of the missing Cindy.

But this news could not be delivered over the phone.

As he pulled into the driveway, apprehension took hold of his gut, wrenching it like a vise. How the h.e.l.l was he going to tell her? He had done this many a time in his life, but never had it been so painful.

Cole opened the door to his Ranger, checked the time on his watch, twelve-fi fteen, and headed for the front door. Lights in the house glowed softly thro ugh the closed curtains and blinds. A slat in one of the Venetian blinds ros e then fell back into place, telling him Laurie Michaels awaited anything he might have to say.

He struck the bra.s.s knocker on the plate as anxiety traveled up his spine, n early stealing any nerve he might have had left. Maybe, he thought, this wou ld have been better left until morning, but the time for second thoughts had pa.s.sed.

The door swung open and Laurie stood, clutching a white terry-cloth robe at he r neck, holding it closed as if the tie at her waist had not been sufficient.

Even without the benefit of makeup, she was stunning.

Her eyes grew wide at the look of concern on Cole's face. He had never been truly good at hiding his emotions to those he cared for, and want to or not, he cared for Laurie.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice betraying her obvious fear.

He did not have to say a word; it was as though she already knew what he ha d come to tell her-as though she read his thoughts.

Cole entered her house, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against th e cool wooden door and inhaled a deep breath. G.o.d, give me strength , he t hought, then pushed away from the surface and led her to the family room b y placing a comforting hand on the small of her back.

"I think you better have a seat first," he mumbled.

Flashes of Cindy's empty eyes and bloated face stared at him in his mind, su re to haunt his sleepless or dream-filled nights. Images not likely to leave him any time soon.

Laurie said not a word; as a matter of fact, Cole would swear she had no will left in her at all as she walked numbly in front of him.

She sat heavily in the pillow-filled corner of the couch as if her legs had given out on her, her eyes downcast. Laurie drew her legs up to her chest an d hugged them. Cole placed his thumb beneath her chin, and raised her gaze t o meet his. Fat tears slipped down her cheeks and Cole nearly lost his reser ve.

"Tell me," she whispered, a slight tremor to her voice. "What has she gone and done this time?"

"Not something she can take back, I'm afraid. She...she's dead," Cole stated , wis.h.i.+ng like h.e.l.l it had not been him who had to tell her, though, he woul d have had it no other way.

Her lower lip began to tremble, and he knew she tried desperately to hold her self together.

"How?" she asked, the single word filled with the ache surely gripping her he art.

It was Cole's turn to look away as remaining visions of Cindy entering his apartment, Damien in tow, giggling as she tried to undo the top b.u.t.ton of h is jean shorts, played before his mind. Or how she had snuggled beneath the tall man's arm and led Damien away so Cole could be alone with Laurie. Her bouncing blond curls-her ever-present smile. His eyes burned with the need to shed tears of his own and he feared had he looked into Laurie's distrau ght face, he would lose what strength he had left.

Taking a deep breath, Cole turned back and placed his palm atop her cheek.

His gaze held hers as her warm-brown eyes spilled hot tears of past memorie s of her own-each one surely able to tell a story. The wetness ran down his hand and filled the gaps between his fingers, before slipping over his han d.

"She sliced her wrists," he whispered, her pain evident in his own heart, ripping a large aching hole in his chest.

At first, Laurie said nothing. Her jaw clenched and she bit into her lower lip until a drop of blood welled to the surface. Cole reached out with the pad of his thumb to ease the ache as he brushed across the silky wet surface of her lip.

Without warning, Laurie slapped away his hand, pushed at his immovable body , and tried frantically to put s.p.a.ce between them, though her back rested a gainst the pillows of the sofa.

Shaking her head, her eyes became haunted and distant. She spat, "This isn'

t real. You're lying to me! How can you be so cruel?" Laurie slapped at his chest as her obvious anguish increased.

She pounded; she slapped; she tore at his s.h.i.+rt.

Cole sat still, waiting for her fit to subside, knowing she needed to vent h er agony on someone, anyone. Him.

Then as quickly as it came, her shoulders sagged and the anger abated. She looked at him like a child, desperately wanting...no, needing to be comfort ed. Cole would have traded eternity to bring back Cindy at that moment.

"Please tell me she wouldn't have done that. Oh, G.o.d, please tell me that, Co le."

She hid her face in her hands as her body shook with broken sobs. Though he wished to stop the flow of tears, he knew it to be part of the healing.

"Laurie," Cole whispered, grasping her shoulders gently within his hands, "I wish I could tell you differently, but Cindy's dead. I found her a few hours ago."

Any strength Laurie might have had gave way beneath his grip. He knew den ial no longer lingered. Cindy VanWarren had taken her life and there was nothing Laurie could do to change that.

Cole placed his arms around her shoulders and drew her into his embrace as s he sobbed into his white tee, soaking the front. He rocked her gently, kissi ng her brow, the top of her head, all the while attempting to soothe her whe n he himself felt anything but tranquil.

"Shhh," he whispered into her hair. "Everything will be just fine. You'll see .".

He knew, for Laurie though, nothing would ever again be the same. For when someone close died, they never quite left. They lived on in the heart, the mind, forcing memories to replay over and over again.

But soon, the memories softened, no longer wrenching through the gut like a twisting blade; no longer forcing the thought of something done differentl y, wis.h.i.+ng for that last moment of time spent to say something, anything, t hat might have made a difference.

Eventually, a smile plays before the mind, a look in their eyes, a gesture wit h a hand, a slight tilt of their head, and the pain subsided. Pictures, like photographs stored in the mind, were locked away. Something was left behind, a gift to forever treasure.

Her tears somewhat subsiding, Laurie set herself right, wiping away the rem aining wetness. She looked up at him with huge brown eyes like a doe caught in headlights, looking for direction.

A single tear slipped down Cole's cheek.

Laurie reached out and touched the small offering, knowing what it had cost him. Had he not cared for her at all-his heart would have remained unmoved , for he had seen death too many times in his life to be touched by it.

She placed her trembling lips gently on his, tasting her own salt as he kisse d her back. Her hands moved up his chest as she clawed at the material of his s.h.i.+rt, wanting desperately to rid him of it, needing to be within his arms, to have him deaden her pain.

His hands came to rest atop of hers as he eased away, ending the mind-numbin g kiss. G.o.d, she wanted to forget, even if just for a while.

"No," he whispered, holding her face between his palms. Her gaze questioned him, looking for the explanation sure to spill from his lips.

"This is not the time," he said, smoothing back her hair from the sides of her face, looking deeply into her eyes.

"Please, Cole. Make me forget." Her plea sounded pitiful, even to herself.

"I can only numb the pain...not take it away. You have to deal with your gri ef, Laurie. It won't go away because you want it to."

She knew the truth to his statement as she pushed herself from Cole, look ing toward the closed blinds. No matter how much she wanted to deny what had pa.s.sed-she could not. Cindy VanWarren had sought to end her life and succeeded. But why?

Laurie glanced at Cole, whose concern touched her, telling her what words n ever would. "There's more isn't there?" she asked. It was in his expression , the way he held back.

Cole stood, reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a folded piece of paper. "This should have been tagged as evidence," he said, pausing as h e unfolded it, "and it will, but I knew you had to read it first." He let ou t a short chuckle, though no humor laced the sound. "h.e.l.l, I could probably lose a few days' pay for this, but here," and he handed her the paper as he sat back down beside her.

Laurie looked down at it, tears refilling her eyes as she recognized the penm ans.h.i.+p and her badly scrawled name at the top. She placed her fingers over he r lips to cease their trembling.

Laurie, The one thing in life I cherished was the way you loved me. You're the family I never had. I searched everywhere you know, desperately wanting someone to love me. My parents, Patrick, Damien-who I thought I could have spent m y life loving, even if he didn't share how I felt. But he wanted the only p erson who did love me. Ironic isn't it? So rather than coming to hate you..

.you'll soon get the picture. Take care of Damien for me, will you? Oh h.e.l.l , I doubt he'll even miss me. But please, please don't you forget me.

-Cindy

New tears flowed down her cheeks as she turned to Cole. "What's this got to do with Damien?" she hiccupped, already knowing the answer. She needed to hear it spoken aloud.

Cole placed a hand beside her head and pulled her into his embrace. She hea rd the sound of his beating heart, even over the breaking of her own. As he began to speak, his voice rumbled up from his rib cage, calling her nearer as she snuggled more fully against him and wrapped her arms around his wai st. The note now lay forgotten on the table.

"Damien broke up with Cindy on Monday night after one of his gigs," he told her, rubbing a soothing hand down her back. "I told you that earlier."

"But what does this have to do with me?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"Damien wanted you, and as long as he was seeing Cindy, he knew that woul dn't be possible."

Laurie sat back from Cole and looked into his eyes. "He told you this?"

His gaze held hers for long moments, not saying a word. Then finally, he g lanced away, affirming what she already suspected. "Yes."

"Have you told Damien about...about..." she could not finish as she attempte d to swallow the lump threatening her air supply.

"No, this is the first place I came. I suppose he has a right to know." His v oice sounded haunted and distant.

"Says who?" Laurie nearly roared. "You know the b.a.s.t.a.r.d won't care!"

"I wouldn't go that far." His eyes held the same torment that laced his words .

"I would," she spat, not caring what Cole might think. Of course, this was not his fault, but... "How could anyone be so heartless as to want to date his girlfriend's best friend? That's d.a.m.n cold, Cole, especially when he ha d to have known how much Cindy loved him. G.o.d, poor Cindy." She paused; her vision trained on the vertical blinds across the room. Then glancing at Co le, she asked, "Can I see her?"

"No." His tone told her it would be fruitless to argue.

Not being able to help herself, she had to at least try. "Why not? She was li ke family to me."

"I don't think you ought to see her-not in the condition she was in when I lef t." "Meaning?"

His eyes narrowed. "Dammit. You're going to make me tell you this aren't you?"

"Tell me what?"

"She floated for three days, for G.o.d's sake. Have you ever seen what happen s to skin after prolonged periods in water?"

Tears slipped down her cheeks again. "Can it be so bad?"

He grasped her face and placed a tender kiss upon her lips, then held her clo se. "You don't even want to know," he said, his voice trailing off. "Trust me on this one."

Moments or hours later, Cole wasn't sure which, he listened to Laurie's sof t breathing, telling him she was asleep, had been for some time. No matter, though, how much he wanted to sit and hold her, he knew the best place for her at the moment would be her bed.

Careful not to disturb her, Cole slipped out from beneath her embrace, then gathered her in his arms. She woke enough to curl her arms around his neck and to snuggle against his chest. He took the stairs to the second floor t hen searched the darkened house, looking for what might be her bedroom.

The second door on the left produced a room of soft yellows with Zeke curle d up at the foot of the queen-sized bed. Cole would lay odds he had found t he right room. He pulled back the thick comforter and laid her atop the coo l sheets.

Laurie snuggled into the pillow as Cole reached for the cord on the ceiling f an and turned it on low. As he was about to exit the room, her soft voice cal led out to him. He turned in the doorway, glancing at the angel lying so alon e in the large bed.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Don't leave me," she requested, her voice tiny and broken.