“Why?”
“Later, after the hospital…” Her pink tongue swiped her lips. “I can’t stay here tonight.”
“Of course not. It’s a crime scene.”
Her brown eyes narrowed into thin slits filled with questions. “And you know this how?”
He hadn’t meant to sound so matter of fact. “I’ve watched my share of crime shows.”
“Oh, Ok.” She ran her hands over her arms and looked around at the mess. “Not that I want to come back here,” she added weakly.
“Where are you going to stay?”
“I don’t know.” Her spine stiffened again. “What I do know, is for now, I’m going to the hospital. Maybe I’ll crash in the waiting room tonight. I want to be close to Nanette anyway. If I can’t get back in here tomorrow, then I’ll figure something out. Professor Lawson will be back tomorrow, so at least I don’t have to worry about teaching his classes. Here, let me have my bag. You’ve held it long enough.”
“It’s no problem. Come on. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”
“That’s nice of you, but I can call a cab or—”
“I’m going to drive you,” he said cutting her off. “Don’t argue.”
A weak smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Heavy footsteps sounded from the hall and a moment later Johnson’s partner entered the doorway. He gave them a quick onceover, before he brushed past.
The female officer, speaking to Johnson, stepped back for a moment, giving some privacy to the officers in charge.
Chase kept a careful eye on the pair. Johnson spoke and Stauffer scribbled a few notes on a small pad. Both men looked in their direction and he wondered what they were speculating about now. Maybe he’d asked too many questions.
Johnson spoke to the female officer again.
Feeling as if all eyes were on him, Chase glanced at Emma, and sure enough she studied him.
“What are you thinking?” Emma asked.
Had she’d seen the twitch of his jaw, the uncontrollable bad habit had been his downfall on more than a few occasions?
“Not here,” he responded as a female officer came to stand at Emma’s side.
“Ms. Lewis, Detective Johnson has directed me to escort you while you gather a few personal belongings. I’ll need to examine and document what you take with you.” She held up a small notebook.
Emma’s tongue darted across her lips. “Yes, of course.”
She reached for her bag which he held. “I might need that.”
Chase watched as the two women walked down the hall and disappeared into her bedroom. Emma’s life had been thrown into turmoil the day she’d found Denise Davidson and tonight’s development had brought evil right to her doorstep.
While he waited for Emma’s return, he stood with his back flat against the wall so as not to get in anyone’s way. There were things to learn about this break-in and assault and he couldn’t find clues or overhear the officers processing the scene, standing in the hallway.
What had the intruder looked for?
Chase scanned the windows. They seemed secure and undamaged, no broken or cut panes. A fire escape was attached to the building outside one of them. Between the drapes a CSI with a flashlight, dusted for prints.
Had Nanette’s attacker been in the apartment when she arrived home? Had she surprised him, or had she known him and opened the door?
The son of a bitch had to have been in the apartment for a while. How had he gained access? The building super? A campus cop? An ex-boyfriend with a key?
He wasn’t the jealous type, but thinking about another man holding Emma in his arms, caused his fingers to clench into a fist. Chase mentally shook his head. He needed to help Emma by solving this case which meant he needed to focus on the investigation—the here and now and the clues he might find.
Nanette’s wrists had shown signs she’d been tied up. Chase had seen the pieces of rope lying on the floor in the bedroom. Had the guy used rope he’d found here in the apartment or had he come prepared?
He’d ask Emma about the rope later.
His mind drifted back to Nanette’s concern about her camera. Emma believed it had nothing to do with the attack on her friend, but if his gut was right, which it was most of the time, Nanette’s camera factored into this mystery somehow. He had to locate and examine it.
About five minutes passed before Emma reappeared, followed by the officer. She carried a small, nylon overnight bag along with her book bag which now seemed to be twice its earlier size and by the way she struggled to carry it, the bag also weighed twice as much.
He met her halfway and snagged the bag. “I’ll take this.”
“It’s heavy.”
“I’ve got it.”
“I probably don’t need everything I put in there, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” As they headed toward the door, she glanced up at him and said, “Something is off here.”
Surprised widened his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
Chapter Twenty-one
Chase’s nerves throbbed so close to his skin he felt hot. There was no other way to describe the angst that had him so jumpy. Standing in a light drizzle out on the curb, he ducked his head and impatiently waited for the on-coming traffic to pass. The cars’ headlights grew brighter and brighter and then disappeared like bolts of lightning.
He hurried across Hamilton Street. He hadn’t wanted to leave Emma’s side, but his phone vibrated on his hip more than once or twice. The third time he told her he needed a good cup of coffee instead of the stuff the machine in the hospital waiting room produced and headed into the night to the diner across the street.
The emergency door swished open and he blinked at the midday lighting. The clock on the wall behind the admittance desk showed twenty minutes past midnight. In ten minutes he had managed to grab drinks and made a quick call to Will to inform his boss of the latest turn of events. He also learned there were no new developments in Mark Varklet’s disappearance, and asked if anyone knew where Knepper was. The man hadn’t shown up at the crime scene in Emma’s apartment.
Besides the two nurses behind their desks, he and Emma weren’t alone in the bright room where personal problems and other secrets were hard to keep. In one corner, a mother held a sleeping baby swaddled in soft, blue blankets. She rocked back and forth, crooning reassurance even though her red-rimmed eyes held none. An older man—a relative most likely, because they had the same shaped nose and mouth—paced the floor in front of them. His creased slacks and Oxford sweater said he had money.
He’d traced and retraced the same ten feet over the last hour. The only time he paused was when the emergency unit’s doors swished open. So far, no one had approached them and he continued his pacing.
Slumped against the wall, in the deepest, darkest corner of the room, lounged a man who appeared elderly, but who could easily look in his thirties if he had a haircut, shave and bath. His snoring provided background melody to the heel clicks of the old man who kept pacing.
Chase turned his attention to Emma. She leaned forward, elbows on knees, cradling her head in her hands. Under the bright lights, her brown hair cascaded over her knees in shimmering hues of red and gold. There was no doubt in his mind this week had been the most stressful week of her life. Even so, she’d held up better than most.
He stepped in front of her. “Did you hear anything?”
Her head rocked against her palms and then she combed her hair back with spread fingers. “Yes.” She exhaled the word.
“How is she?” He held out a cup to her. From the tiny hole in the lid, steam spiraled into the air between them. “They only had black tea. Two sugars. Be careful. It’s hot.”
“Thanks,” Emma said, accepting the cup. She removed the plastic top and took a sip. Her pink lips parted with her sigh as the caffeine washed over her tongue.
He knew that feeling very well.
“They finally gave me an update. No
t much because I’m not a family member, and only after I contacted Nan’s mother for permission and Dean Patterson provided confirmation of who I am so I can receive updates on Nan’s condition.
“Nan’s resting now. The doctor said she has bruises and contusions on all extremities—and a possible concussion. They’re going to keep her overnight, and perhaps even for a couple days.”
Emma sipped her tea and stared off into space. Her jaw clenched. “Nan is going to be so pissed at me.”
“Why?”
Her dark eyes slanted up to him. “I had to call her parents. Patience, her mother, is checking on flights, but probably won’t be able to take off until tomorrow. She’s in Rome right now on business. It might be a day, maybe two, until she arrives. Nanette is not going to be happy I called her.”
“Doesn’t Nan get along with her mother?”
“They get along when there’s half a world between them. Nanette is independent and an adventurer, like her grandfather, so she says, whereas her mother is totally opposite. Patience will try to convince Nanette to go home with her, to Lyon, France. She’ll probably insist after this. From what Nan has told me, her mother objected to her coming to the U.S.A. to study.”
Emma massaged her left temple with her free hand.
“Have you ever met her parents?”
“No. In fact this is the first time I’ve spoken to her mother.”
“How long have you been roommates?” He knew, but he asked anyway.
“This is our second year rooming together”
“And you’ve never met or spoken to them?”
“Both are very busy people. They own a robotic design company. They haven’t had time to visit.” She wrapped her hands around the cup as if they were cold and she needed to draw the warmth of the cardboard into them.
“Nan’s gone home. Once. Last summer.”
“How do they keep in touch?”
“They call Nan’s cell. We don’t have a land line. And of course there is the Internet.”
Today’s world was different. In other generations, going to college in a different state or across the U.S.A. had been a stretch for the majority of students and their parents. Now kids were even searching for their path in life outside the safety of their own countries.
Emma emptied her lungs of the angst she felt. “I know I had to contact them. The dean would’ve, if I hadn’t. He probably did anyway. I wonder if I did the right thing, for Nan’s sake. If she would approve.” She sighed again. “We should’ve talked about the possibility of something like this happening before it…”
He remembered the relief in his parents’ voices when he first spoke to them after the classified Middle East incident that had left six of his comrades dead and him the only survivor. Hearing his parents’ voices had been a healing factor for him. And added reassurance he wasn’t alone in this world.
“Of course calling them was the right thing to do,” he said, dropping onto the seat next to her. Her sweet scent and her sad expression made him want to pull her into his arms, but he knew that would be a mistake under the circumstances.
They were in a public place, so nothing would come of the closeness, and holding her now would make the temptation much harder to resist later when they were alone. He held back on a physical demonstration and tried to support her with words: “They’re her parents. They have a right to know she was attacked and injured.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right.” Her weak smile upped his longing to hold her, tenfold.
To bolster his self-control, he shot to his feet and without hesitation downed the rest of his joe. Thank goodness it had cooled and he didn’t scald his throat.
Being near Emma was dangerous. She made him do things without thinking things through.
Quickly he crossed to the trash bin and tossed the cup. He had to stay focused. People’s lives depended on him. A few hours earlier he believed they’d had a break in their case. A break that had put Nanette Yves smack in the middle of the shit pile. Her recent actions had certainly added weight to their belief Nanette was somehow connected to the drug operation, but now he wasn’t so sure. Had Nanette simply gotten mixed up with the wrong people?
If so, how could his radar be so far off?
He blamed it on Emma, the woman who sat right in front of him. He watched as her lips slipped over the cup’s rim and she drew in the hot liquid. His whole body vibrated on the inside. Every muscle. Every nerve was poised…
He pulled his gaze away from her mouth and dropped it to his scuffed boots. Ten feet separated them, yet Emma’s fragrance enticed his senses. His throat clenched tighter and tighter as he held back the groan, thinking of the pleasure her lips could give him. Feeling his shaft tighten, he shifted and his view widened to include the sleeping guy in the corner. For the next few moments, he focused on how to solve the country’s homeless situation.
When he felt he’d regained perspective and a level of control, he looked at Emma. He needed a drink and something a hell of a lot stronger than he could get here in the hospital or the diner across the street.
“Are they going to let you see Nanette?”
“I don’t know.” She leaned back on her chair and checked her watch. “It’s late. Why don’t you go?”
“I’ll wait.”
“Really. I’m fine.” She waved him toward the door.
“I’m staying.”
She studied his unyielding expression a few seconds before a smile brightened her face. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Her smile made him feel all jumpy, like a school boy wanting to impress his first love. After this case closed, he intended to ask her to dinner again. He felt comfortable with her and wanted to see her, but those desires would have to wait.
“You look exhausted.”
“You’ve no idea.” She set her cup down on the small table next to her chair and raised her arms over her head, stretching her back and shoulders. Her breasts moved against her sweater as she gradually released the tension from her forehead to the base of her neck. She did this several times before just letting her hair fall over her shoulders and back.
His mouth went dry, watching her. He wanted to feel the silky wisps between his fingers—and on his body when they made love.
God, she was pretty. An overwhelming feeling of tenderness and protectiveness washed over him…
Could this be love?
The word made him swallow. He’d had sex with a number of women over the years, but not once had love come to mind. The acts had been one sided, for his gratification. With Emma, he wanted to spend days learning what gave her the greatest pleasure.
“Ms. Lewis,” a nurse called out, saving him from his thoughts.
“I’m here.” Emma jumped up from the thin-cushioned chair.
“Doctor Shaw asked me to tell you Ms. Yves is being admitted and will be taken to her room as soon as it’s ready.”
“Can I see her?”
“I’m sorry. She is sedated. I suggest you go home and get some sleep. The doctor has said she can have visitors in the morning—if she rests now.”
“But—”
Chase knew how she felt.
“Emma, Nan needs her rest and so do we. She is in good hands.” The nurse smiled approvingly up at him.
“You’re right,” Emma conceded and then thanked the nurse for passing along the doctor’s message.
They gathered Emma’s belongings and walked out into the night. Standing on the sidewalk, she seemed lost.
“If you’re wondering where you’re going from here, you’re coming to my place.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes. You can.” He put on his most harmless expression and raised his hands in the air. “You’ll be safe. I promise.”
She laughed. “I know, but I don’t want to trouble you.”
He liked the tone of her laugh. “It’s no trouble,” he said, and then he took her by the elbow and led her to his car.
“It’s not much, but it’s clean,” he said, and then smiled, thinking Knepper had used the same words with him.
Where was that man?
Emma walked past him and surveyed the room. “It’s nice. One room?”
“Studio. Yes.” He locked the door and then tossed his keys on the table. “There is only a sofa bed. You can use it. The bathroom is there. I’ll open the bed up while you use the facilities.”
She stared at him warily. “Where will you sleep?”
“I can bunk on the floor. It won’t be the first time.”
“I can take the floor.” Her relief that he had no plans to climb into bed with her, showed on her face. Plans were sometimes different than dreams…
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I’d let you sleep on the floor? No. You get the bed.” He tilted his head. “Now, go. It’s late and you look as if you’re going to fall asleep standing there.”
A suggestion of a smile played on her lips as she passed him.
Ten minutes later, Emma exited the bathroom, carrying her bag. Her face, scrubbed clean of any makeup, was more beautiful than before.
She wore a long-sleeved shirt that covered her linen pants to mid thigh. The white shirt remained unbuttoned to her midriff, revealing a cotton tee that matched the plaid design of her pants. Her feet were bare and her toes curled into the carpet.
His eyes connected with hers and a dream sequence played out in his thoughts.
Where he said, in a yearning voice, “I want you.”
And she replied in a female version of his husky tone, “I want you too.”
Then her breasts swelled against the thin fabric. He longed to take her into his arms and feel her soft skin against his palms, the flex of her muscles as she surrounded him.
Then he said, “But it’s not the right time.”
And she responded glumly, “I know.”
“It’s all yours,” Emma said, pulling him out of his reverie.
“Thanks.” He grabbed his shaving kit from the chair where all his belongings were piled and stalked past her.
Obsessed by Darkness Page 24
