Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology

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Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 191

by Anthony, Jane


  “Did it end amicably? Was it a nasty divorce? You’re doing well with your studio. Did she want a share of that?” Jade asked each question much nicer than Carter ever would’ve.

  His eyes popped up. “Oh, no. It was all pretty simple. She never wanted any of my money. I think she just wanted love, and I couldn’t give her enough of that.” He shrugged.

  “Do you know if she had any problems with anyone?” Carter asked. Neither Jeffrey nor Ronney could think of a single person who would’ve wanted to harm Evelyn.

  “No, she was a sweet woman. I’m truly shocked someone would hurt her like this. Although …” His gaze lifted to the ceiling as if he were contemplating the meaning of life. “I always felt like she was hiding something. Well, not something crazy or whatever, but you know, something.”

  Carter looked just as perplexed as Jade. That wasn’t … helpful. He didn’t even know what that meant.

  “Something … about someone else?” He smiled, hoping to ease Brandon’s troubled look.

  “No.” Brandon shook his head. “Something about her. Like in her past or something. I don’t know. She loved to have fun and laugh, but there were times I saw sadness in her eyes. Sort of like her friend Rose. She’s a little weird, though.”

  Carter’s entire body tensed. Rose? Weird? Never.

  His protective instincts, which never kicked in for a woman, jumped out like a geyser reaching for the sky. A calm hand to his arm instantly warned him to stand down and not say a word.

  “What do you mean by that?” Jade asked a little too nicely to his ears.

  Way too nicely. Rose was far from weird.

  Not that he knew her well, but she wasn’t weird.

  Brandon shrugged again. “I don’t know. She was always so quiet. She didn’t say much. Evelyn is so full of life. I’m not sure why they were friends.”

  He inhaled a heavy breath, trying to suppress the angry, vile words that he wanted to unleash at this guy, when Jade spoke. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Meyer. If you think of anything that might help us, please give me a call.” She held out one of her cards.

  Brandon took the card with a sad grin and nodded.

  Jade said goodbye for both of them and practically pushed him out of the building.

  “You almost lost your cool. And why? Over this Rose woman?”

  He honestly couldn’t explain his reaction to a few words said against Rose. And they weren’t terribly rude words against her, but enough to make his blood boil just at the thought of someone thinking anything but nice things about her.

  She wasn’t weird.

  She was beautiful.

  She was hurting.

  She was …

  Well, he couldn’t exactly describe what else she was, but she wasn’t weird.

  She was a victim’s friend. He would do well to remember that.

  He slammed his door a little harder than was necessary.

  “Okay. I see you’re going to ignore me about the Rose comment. Let’s talk about the ex-husbands. I don’t see a clear killer. They’re all nice, successful men. None of them has a record, especially a violent one. They all had good things to say about Evelyn, yet none of the relationships lasted a year. So, where does that leave us?”

  His hand smoothed over the steering wheel as he processed everything. “We keep digging. We still need to talk to Lincoln Tallont.” He turned the key in the ignition. “It wouldn’t hurt to talk to Rose again. She and Evelyn seemed close. Perhaps she’ll be able to answer questions now that she’s had time to herself.”

  “Okay, partner.”

  Carter didn’t glance at Jade as she snickered those two words. They did need to speak to Rose again. They did.

  It wasn’t because he wanted to see her again and any excuse would do.

  Absolutely not.

  He was trying to solve this case. Rose could help.

  He shouldn’t be watching.

  This was a business.

  Nothing more.

  This wasn't for pleasure. And yet, he often found himself lurking in corners watching things he shouldn’t be watching.

  When you couldn’t have what you wanted, then there was nothing else to do but watch. Try as he might, the object of his obsession remained tantalizingly out of reach. So, instead, at night, he came here. Where he usually found himself standing at one of the windows watching what was going on inside.

  Tonight was no exception.

  The window was grimey and hard to see through, but he could see enough. The girl on the bed lay limply, like a ragdoll, allowing the man to do to her whatever he pleased. The girl hadn't always been that way. He remembered the day she’d been brought here. Back then, she had been fiery and snarky, constantly refusing to obey instructions and fighting him every step of the way.

  That was almost eighteen months ago.

  She had learned.

  They all learned.

  They all came thinking that they could win, that they could remain in control of themselves and their lives. They thought that they could do what they wanted, that they didn't have to ask permission to perform even the most basic of tasks, that they had the right to say no, that they could fight back.

  In time, they all learned that was no longer so.

  Some of them held out longer than others. Some of them lasted months before their spirits were squashed and beaten down into nothingness; some lasted barely a week or two; some, not more than a day.

  In the end, the outcome was always the same. They came to realize that they were nothing.

  They had no rights here.

  He was in charge.

  He made the decisions.

  He decided if they lived or died.

  They were his property and he could treat them as he wished. There was no one to stop him. Down here in the dark world he had created there were no cops, there were no laws. These girls were here to serve only one purpose, to make him rich. There were a lot of men who would pay good money for a little time alone with a girl who was completely and utterly at their mercy. There was only one rule here: the men couldn’t kill the girls, anything else was fair game.

  He occasionally had to kill one of the girls. If they got too old and were no longer bringing in the money. Sometimes he would sell them on to someone else, but sometimes he just killed them and dumped their bodies.

  The one he was watching now was a particularly pretty one, and still young. He liked them young. The younger the better; they brought in a lot more money than the older ones. She would definitely be going on the market when she had outlived her time here, and he suspected she would bring him in a small fortune.

  The man on top of her was grunting and groaning so loud he could hear him from out here.

  As he watched, the girl’s face morphed into Rose Gowan’s. The man on top of her became himself.

  His hand in his pants moved faster.

  Seconds later, he came with a grunt of his own.

  One day, he would have Rose beneath him.

  One day, he would come inside her.

  One day, she would be his prized possession.

  He rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the paper in front of him. “Did you see this coroner’s report yet?”

  “No. I’m still trying to let the caffeine hit my system. It’s been a long day with nothing to show for it. I hate those kinds of days.”

  He nodded, then picked up the piece of paper. “Looks like a preliminary report from Crock. Faint bruising marks on her wrists. Weird.”

  “She was most likely tied up. Any marks around her ankles?” Jade looked quizzically at him. “What’s weird?”

  “Nothing noted about her ankles, but there were two round marks on her back, near her neck, spaced evenly. He couldn’t give an exact definition, but he’s thinking it’s from a Taser.”

  Jade leaned back in her chair, her brows pleating together. “Marks on her wrists, possibly tased. Missing for a week. Whoever took her could’ve held her for a while before killing
her. Did he give a time of death?”

  “No. It’s too difficult to tell because of the body being in the water. But she could’ve been held a few days before being killed. None of her ex-husbands felt like a killer. This killer almost feels sadistic. Cutting her open and stuffing her with rocks. That’s just odd.”

  “The entire case is odd. Where do we go from here?”

  Carter stood up. He knew exactly where he wanted to go. “We should interview Rose again.”

  Jade chuckled. “If you insist.” A slow yawn escaped.

  “I can handle it myself. It’ll be quick. I’ll pop in and ask her a few questions and then head home. We’ll start fresh tomorrow. We still need to interview Lincoln Tallont.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you. Enjoy your time.” She couldn’t hold back a snicker.

  Carter decided to ignore it and left before she changed her mind. He preferred to interview Rose on his own.

  The drive to her home felt quick. As he parked his car and got out of the vehicle, his stomach grumbled. It had been a long day, with a quick lunch, and his body was finally telling him to slow down and eat. He would. As soon as he saw Rose.

  Ever since Evelyn’s latest ex-husband Brandon called Rose weird, he had this insane sensation to see her. Make sure she was okay. He couldn’t explain it, even to himself.

  Knocking on her door, he waited longer than a few seconds before the door swung open. Her black curly hair laid in soft waves upon her shoulders. With the sun descending, a few sharp rays directed at her, it was easy to see the light freckles dotting her nose. The sight made her even cuter and more delectable than he’d originally thought. How did he miss her freckles before now?

  “Detective Dixson … hi.”

  He smiled, hoping to ease the tension he saw in her features, the way her knuckles looked a bit white, as if she were exerting too much pressure holding onto the door.

  “You can call me Carter, remember?” He turned up his grin a notch, swiping a lock of his hair back. “Can I come in? Ask a few more questions?”

  She nodded, but didn’t say anything as she held open the door. It shut quietly behind him. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Sure.” He didn’t know what else to say, especially to ease her nerves that were still clear as day. So, instead, he followed her into the kitchen, took a seat at the small table across from the sink and watched in fascination as she made a pot of coffee. Her movements were fluid, yet a few times, he could see her hands shake. She was still nervous. And the last thing he wanted was for her to be nervous around him.

  “How are you holding up, Rose? Is it okay if I call you that?”

  A tiny smile emerged as she nodded. “It’s been a long day. Did you find who … who hurt Evie?”

  He tried to keep a tender smile on his face, not wanting to disappoint or dampen her spirits. “No. We interviewed her ex-husbands—all three of them—and we haven’t found anything to help us yet. I thought maybe you could help somehow.”

  She turned away and grabbed two mugs from the cupboard. “How so?”

  “You were best friends. You were close. What can you tell me about her? About her ex-husbands?”

  She stood so he could only see her side profile, but he could still see the pain that echoed as she pondered his questions. Perhaps he should’ve given her one more day to process the loss of her friend. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel worse.

  “She was the sweetest person. So full of life and happiness. She loved to have fun and meet new people.” She sighed softly. “She liked … men. Sometimes, in between guys, she would stay with me.”

  “Do you know why she dated so often?”

  Shrugging lightly, her gaze still turned away from him, she finally set the mugs on the counter. “She just wanted to find that one man who could love her for her. She dated mostly nice men. Married, nice men. None of them happened to be the right one.”

  “Were any of them ever violent? Any of them ever concern you?” He knew none of Evelyn’s ex-husbands had a record, but that didn’t mean they were never violent. Maybe Evelyn just didn’t report it.

  The coffee signaled it was finished. She poured them both a cup, then set the mugs on the table and took a seat across from him. Her eyes were still turned away from him as she started to speak. “I don’t think so. She never told me if they were.” Her eyes lifted. “I wish I knew something to help you. I can’t think of anyone who’d want to hurt her.”

  “You said she would stay with you in between relationships. Was she living with you before she disappeared?”

  She nodded as she took a sip of coffee.

  “Did you notice anything strange? Anyone following her?” He brushed his hair away from his eyes, then took a sip of coffee to stop a barrage of questions to leave his mouth. He wanted to pelt her with questions. He wanted to solve this case just to ease her mind that he found her friend’s killer. He wanted to make her happy in any little way and he had no idea why.

  Her hands curled around the mug, tightly. “No. Everything was normal … except when I realized she didn’t come home that first night. It wasn’t uncommon for her to hook up with a guy, but she always called me so I wouldn’t worry. She never called. I knew right away something was wrong.”

  He was at a loss for words, especially when he could hear the agony in her voice. He had no idea what else to ask her that would aid him in his investigation. And he didn’t want to leave yet.

  “You … you talked yesterday as if you lost someone close to you. Does the pain ever go away?”

  She met his gaze. Her deep blue eyes held him mesmerized, where he forgot what she asked him.

  Something about pain.

  He knew pain well.

  What a difficult question. He didn’t want to answer because he knew it would offer no comfort.

  “It never goes away.” He didn’t mean for that to sound so abrupt. A grin emerged, swiping his hair once more. “But it does get better over time. You learn to live with it. To manage it.”

  “How do you manage it?”

  He laughed. “I suck at that, actually.”

  A tiny giggle escaped. The sound was like music to his ears. So beautiful. So angelic. He wanted to hear her laugh some more.

  “I like to run. A lot. I like to work. Too much.” He laughed again. “I avoid my pain. It’s easier for me.” His eyes turned down. “I try to forget it ever happened. Which is probably the dumbest thing I could do.”

  “Who did you lose?”

  What a question. A difficult, painful question. Not even Jade, his partner and best friend, knew anything.

  He lifted his gaze and met her crystal blue eyes once again. “My brother.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Carter nodded. “I’m sorry, too. For you.”

  A tiny smile appeared on her gorgeous face as she took another sip of coffee.

  His time was up. He knew he couldn’t think of any more questions, albeit dumb ones that would tell her he was making up excuses to stay. He stood up.

  “Thanks for the coffee. I appreciate you answering some questions for me. If you think of anything, don’t hesitate to call me. Do you still have the card I gave you?”

  “I do.” She slowly stood up.

  For a moment, they stared at each other. Oddly enough, not an ounce of awkwardness stood between them. Finally, she smiled and led the way back to the front door. He stepped outside and turned around before she closed the door.

  “Thank you, Rose.”

  He honestly wasn’t sure why he was thanking her. For her help. For her understanding. For being beautiful. He just felt compelled to say it.

  Her eyes glittered in the semi-bright light that haloed her like an angel. “No, thank you, Carter.”

  She closed the door.

  He walked away feeling a little lighter inside. Like a part of his pain had slipped away by mentioning his brother.

  4

  “I think we should do somet
hing small, just the two of us and maybe a couple of close friends.”

  “But Evie has—had,” Rose corrected herself, “so many friends. They’re all going to want to come and say goodbye to her.” She and Lincoln were planning Evie’s funeral. The idea of having just a small service for her best friend was very appealing. Just her and Lincoln, and maybe one or two other friends of hers and Evie’s whom she was close enough with and would be comfortable around. She hated large groups of people; she always felt awkward and overwhelmed. She was shy and she was always much more at ease in small gatherings.

  But this wasn't about her.

  This was about Evelyn, and her friend deserved a big funeral where all her friends—and she had a lot of them—had a chance to say goodbye to her.

  “You’re right,” Lincoln agreed immediately. “I’m sorry. I just know that you get anxious in large groups. The last few days have been so rough on you, and I worry about you.”

  Rose offered up a smile. Lincoln was a good friend. She didn't have many friends—Evie and Lincoln and a couple of others—but the friends she had were good ones, true ones, the kind of friends she knew she was lucky to have. When she lost Evie, she hadn't just lost her best friend—her confidante, the keeper of her secrets, the one person who knew all her insecurities—she’d lost a piece of herself, and she wasn't sure she’d ever be brave enough to try to let someone fill the hole left in her heart.

  Except maybe …

  Whoa, she had just been about to finish that sentence with Carter Dixson.

  Where had that come from?

  Sure, the detective was cute, the way his light brown hair hung in his eyes; she thought he’d probably brushed it out of the way at least a dozen times when he was at her apartment last night. And his eyes, they were such a dreamy shade of golden brown, she could stare into them forever.

  Huh.

  So she had developed a crush on Carter.

  That was not like her at all. She didn't develop crushes on cops she’d just met. She didn't develop crushes on anyone. It wasn't that she was opposed to dating, it was just that she, well, she wasn't really comfortable around men. She always got nervous, and shy and she never knew what to say or do.

 

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