Wicked Obsessions

by Marilyn Campbell

  Her rage turned to fear when she realized it wasn't the first time she'd noticed that car parked there. Since she hadn't seen him in it, she'd assumed one of the neighbors had bought a new car. Had he forgotten to duck down when she'd walked out of the house just then? Or did he want her to know he was there, watching her every move? How long had he been doing this?

  Long enough to know Drew had spent a night in her house? Her stomach spasmed violently as comprehension dawned. He must have known about that! He might also have seen them the night Drew had kissed her in the doorway. That was why he had come to the conclusion they were lovers.

  And that meant her denial of an intimate relationship had sounded like a bald-faced lie to the detective. Could she now turn around and explain the truth in more detail, or would that only compound her guilt in his eyes? She realized no one who'd witnessed their passionate embrace would believe she and Drew hadn't slept together the night he'd stayed over. And here all she'd been worried about at the time was what the neighbors would think if they saw them.

  She felt as though she were caught in a spider's web constructed of her own half-truths. Would anyone believe her now if she told the whole of it?

  Would anyone understand how a bad joke had become reality and how she suffered from the guilt of knowing she had wished her husband out of her life?

  Or that she and Rico not only knew a blonde woman, but one who had willingly offered to seduce Rico to set him up for an easy divorce, and that she had lied only to protect an innocent young woman from unnecessary harassment?

  Or that she and Drew were only thinking of becoming lovers while her husband lay mutilated in the morgue, and she didn't feel the least bit guilty about that because she believed she deserved a little happiness?

  She wasn't certain she believed it herself.

  Staying inside her house kept her from having to see Kidder, but she knew he was out there. Her only consolation was knowing that if Vincent Nunzio decided to come after her for pointing him out to the police, she had a personal watchdog right outside. She wondered if Detective Kidder would finally believe her if something drastic did happen. She also found herself questioning whether he would actually do anything to stop the thug from hurting her. Telling herself he was still an officer of the law, regardless of his personal feelings for her, she was able to get a little sleep that night.

  She woke on Friday, preoccupied with thoughts of Drew. She couldn't wait to see him. They'd talked, but she hadn't told him about Kidder's nasty visit. She didn't want to put one distracting thought in his head during such an important career opportunity. She had to wait until she could tell him in person. It had occurred to her that Kidder would see him arrive and draw more false conclusions from that. But she was certain he was already drawing a different false conclusion about his not coming by for the past week.

  As originally planned, she went shopping for a special dinner for Drew's return. What she hadn't expected was an uninvited police escort everywhere she went, but she decided another confrontation with Kidder would serve no purpose.

  When Drew called to let her know he was back, and started to say something more personal, she cut him off... suddenly worried that the phone was tapped. Trying to keep the worry out of her voice, she told him she had a new project to discuss with him, and suggested he come over for dinner around six. Drew was clearly confused, but didn't question her peculiar behavior until he arrived at her house.

  "What's wrong?" he demanded the moment she opened the door.

  "Come in and I'll explain." She directed him to the edge of the front window in the living room and, holding the curtain aside an inch, told him to look across the street. He set his hat on a table and went to look. "See the gray compact? Anybody in the driver's seat you recognize?"

  "I can't really tell from here. Is this a new version of I Spy, or what?"

  "It's Detective Kidder. He thinks... oh, God, this is so nuts it's hard to say it out loud. He thinks you and I have been having an affair for some time, and that we killed Rico because he wouldn't give me a divorce."

  Drew laughed sharply once before realizing she wasn't sharing the joke. "You're serious?" he asked, incredulously.

  "It sounds impossible when I say it like that, but the way he delivered it to me, step by step, he made it sound completely rational."

  "How can it sound rational when there's no truth in it?"

  She related how the detective had spelled out his theory to her.

  "Okay," Drew conceded. "There's some sense in it if you don't know the truth. But he can't prove we were long-distance lovers when we only just met. For that matter, we aren't lovers now." Her skeptical look caused him to add, "In the biblical sense."

  She shook her head. "I don't think the truth matters. I think he's been watching the house for some time. Maybe he even took pictures."

  Drew's expression revealed exactly when he recalled the incriminating incidents. "Oh. But we still didn't know each other long enough to plot a murder together. And if we had to, we could surely prove it."

  Teri felt somewhat relieved to hear him say that, but there were still the other half-truths. "He was on target about Rico and the divorce."

  "But no one else knows that, do they?"

  "Selena does, and now you do too."

  "As one of the accused, I don't think I count. Are you afraid Selena might say somethin'?"

  She frowned. "Not on purpose, but he's very tricky with his questions. And then there's that business about the blonde." She told him about the hair found on Rico's body. "When he asked if I knew any blondes Rico might have been seeing, I said something like, I don't know any blondes. I don't remember exactly what I said. I was so stunned. But I didn't want him bothering Selena with a lot of questions just because of her hair color."

  "But she's not a blonde."

  "What?"

  "Her hair might be called white, silver or even gray, but not blonde. Anyway, he could see Selena with his own eyes."

  His logic was so clear that Teri wondered how she could have been so blind to it, until she tried to remember when Kidder had seen Selena. "It sounds strange, but I'm not sure he has. I mean, he has, but now that I think about it, I'm not sure he's seen her real hair. She's had a thing for this red wig lately. I'm just not positive about it."

  "Either way, she wasn't havin' an affair with Rico, was she?"

  "No, of course not. She's my friend." A friend who joked about seducing my husband as a favor. Teri kept that embarrassing episode to herself. As nice as Drew was, she didn't want him to know what truly wicked thoughts she'd once had.

  "Then he has nothin' but a lot of suppositions. I think you should go see that Captain Hart and tell him what Kidder's doin' to you. I got the distinct impression he believed the guy we pointed out was guilty, and he couldn't wait to pin the whole thing on the mob. I can't help but wonder if Kidder's actin' on his own."

  "You're right. I kept thinking Kidder was acting crazy, like it was something personal he had against me. Maybe he really is off-balance. That settles it," she stated firmly. "I'll go see the captain tomorrow and put an end to this nonsense."

  "Good. So, what's cookin'?"

  "Do you really think you should stay to eat? I mean, he's out there, probably counting the minutes we spend together."

  "If he's tappin' your phone, which I doubt, since that's not such an easy thing to do legally, he knows you invited me to dinner to discuss work."

  "Right. But I don't think you should stay long, do you? I mean, I want you to stay, but until we're off his prime suspect list, I think we should—"

  "Keep our needs on ice?" he finished for her. She nodded, with a blush for emphasis. He couldn't resist giving her a hug, but he set her away immediately after. "Until we're in the clear, we'll keep our relationship strictly professional—confined to the studio after tonight. Have you been working?"

  "A little. It's been hard."

  "I can't imagine why!" His sarcasm earned him a smile. "At any
rate, he can't make anything of our both bein' in the studio from time to time."

  "No, I don't think so."

  "That's settled too, then. How about feedin' a poor, lonely cowboy who's been eatin' nothin' but trail dust for days?"

  She found she could laugh after all, and led him to the kitchen. As they ate, Drew told her about his trip and his hopes for a lot more of those kinds of assignments from the same agency. It occurred to Teri that, even considering what a good week he'd had, Drew was not reacting as she'd thought he would when he learned of the detective's charges. Finally, she asked what was on her mind. "Are you pretending not to be worried for my sake?"

  "Worried 'bout what?" he asked with a lopsided smile.

  "You know damn well what I'm talking about."

  He took her hand in his. "Listen to me, darlin'. Worryin' don't make a bad situation better, only worse. Ever since I hit bottom, I learned to live one day at a time. The other slogan I have imprinted on my brain from my experience is 'Let go and let God.' I do the best I can and leave my future in His hands. I figure since He brought me to you, He had a good reason."

  She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. "Oh, Drew, that's so like you to say the perfect thing. I don't want to send you home after that, but I'll console myself with knowing I'll see you tomorrow in the studio."

  He hated leaving her alone, but it would add fuel to the detective's imaginary fire if he stayed any longer. As Teri said, they had the studio... the studio? Instantly making a decision, he said, "We still have work to do."

  Her eyes opened wide. "We do?"

  "Sure 'nuff. And we haven't got a minute to waste. Right now I want you to mosey on up to the studio. I'll only be a couple minutes behind you."

  She didn't know precisely what he had in mind, but if it meant she could postpone saying goodnight, she was all for it.

  "Turn on the outside light and bang the kitchen door good and loud on your way out. Hopefully, he has his hearing aid in. We want to make sure he knows right where we are for the rest of the evenin'."

  His deviousness made her laugh again, and she did as he suggested. A moment after she entered the studio, she heard a thud like a car door slamming and ran to the window. For a heartbeat she had feared Drew was leaving, but he was only getting his camera and bag out of the trunk. She also noticed he had a brown grocery bag with him. Her curiosity was piquing by the time he joined her, but she waited for him to explain.

  He set down his equipment and handed her the grocery bag. "Go put this on."

  She looked at the brown bag and asked innocently, "How should I wear it? Over my head?" He smirked at her, and she opened it to find her pink terrycloth robe. As she pulled it out, she asked, "What's this for?"

  "You'll see. Just put it on."

  She started to push one arm into a sleeve, but he stopped her.

  "Not like that. Go in there," he ordered, pointing to the bathroom, "and put it on—the way you were last week when I put you to bed. Exactly the way you were. It looks like we've been accused of somethin' that's dang near impossible to deny. I figure that already makes us guilty of improper behavior without havin' enjoyed it. Unless you have an objection, I'd rather be guilty of somethin' I found considerable pleasure in."

  Her stomach did a double flip as his words sank in. The waiting was over. They were going to become lovers for real, right under the detective's watchful eye. The move to the studio and the camera equipment were just a cover for Kidder's sake. They knew he couldn't possibly see anything inside because of the blackout shades over the windows.

  She took the robe into the bathroom and immediately heard Drew moving things around in the studio as she undressed. What on earth was he doing now?

  As she came out of the bathroom, her nervousness required her to make another joke. "I assume you didn't want me to put my head under the faucet to get the look exactly—" her words hung in the air as she took in the changes he'd made. One of her big lamps had been covered by a pink filter and was glowing on the bed, over which was draped a large piece of royal blue satin. The charming devil who had set the stage was fiddling with his camera as if he hadn't noticed her arrival.

  "Just have a seat on the bed," he told her in a stiff, professional voice.

  "Drew," she said in a warning tone, "what are you doing?"

  He glanced up at her with a perfectly innocent expression. "I'm workin', ma'am. And so are you. Ever done any modelin' before, ma'am?"

  "Drew!" This time she stomped her foot for good measure, but it did her no good. He was waiting for her answer. Why not play along, she asked herself. She didn't know the rules to this kind of game. But as she remembered how much she liked Drew's kisses, her body began warming up and she decided to leave the rules to him. "No, I haven't done any modeling," she finally answered, sitting primly on the day bed. "I'm too plain."

  He shook his head at her. "Wrong attitude. We can't get this shoot right unless you know how good you look. You're beautiful, Teri Carmichael, inside and out, and I want your eyes to tell the camera you know it."

  "All right. I'm beautiful. What I'm not is photogenic. That's why I usually stand on the other side of the camera." She made a funny face at him as he held his camera up to his eye and prepared to snap.

  Click-whirr. "Wrong again, ma'am. This camera loves the way you look—especially when your hair hangs loose around your face, restin' just so on your shoulders. Did you know it has just a hint of auburn when the light hits it? Muss it up a little, now." She started to make a joke of that, too, but somehow it seemed more fun to do what he wanted her to. She certainly had given instructions to enough models to know what he meant. As she threaded her fingers through her hair and tossed her head from side to side, he moved from one spot to another, clicking his camera repeatedly.

  "Smile for the camera, pretty lady. It loves your sexy mouth. Let it have a peek inside. That's it. Such a talented little mouth. The kind that makes a man willin' to suffer the fires of Hell to have that mouth on his." Click-whirr.

  "And your eyes. Warm, sensuous eyes that tell a man everythin' he wants to know, nothin' held back. Don't hold it back now, darlin'. Let your eyes tell the camera what you're thinkin' 'bout."

  She felt her heartbeat pick up as she remembered the night they'd almost made love. His sharp intake of breath told her he'd seen her explicit thoughts through his camera lens. Suddenly she understood this was a game for two, and that she could create her own rules.

  His camera kept clicking as she ran her gaze over his body, imagining all the things she intended to do with it. When she ran her tongue over her lips, she watched his body change inside the snug jeans, preparing itself for her, and her breathing altered to accommodate her erratic pulse.

  "Good. Very nice. Let's do a pose or two. Try layin' on your back with your head almost off the side of the bed, and bring your hair out so that it hangs down over the edge. Yes, that's it. Now bend your far knee up through the robe's openin'. C'mon, darlin', show the camera what great legs you've got. Better yet, I'll help you."

  He set down the camera and went to her. With great care and attention, he separated and arranged the robe so that nothing but her leg was visible. It was difficult to lie still as his hands smoothed her robe into place, but when he ran his fingertips up and down her inner thigh, she almost pulled him on the bed with her that minute. But he wasn't done with her yet. First he positioned her arms and hands. Then, touching her only through her robe, he loosened the belt and parted the top between her breasts.

  "Time to close your eyes," he murmured, moving away. She did, and the camera began clicking again. "You're not sleepin', you're rememberin'. Your mind and body are filled with nothin' but memories of your dream lover. The feel of his calloused palm against your naked breasts. How his tongue teased your nipples until you nearly screamed."

  Her hands automatically moved to ease the tingling his words created.

  "You're rememberin' how he felt stretched out on top of you and how y
our thighs parted to make room for him."

  Of their own accord, her legs opened and her body squirmed in search of its other half.

  Click-whirr. "Now, darlin', nice and easy-like, sit up with your back to the camera."

  She no longer thought to refuse him, as she could see and hear by the roughness in his voice that the game was clearly a tie at this point. Again he set the camera down and came up behind her to position her the way he wanted her.

  "The camera liked that little bit of skin, darlin', but it wants to see some more." His fingers grazed the swells of her breasts as they closed around the robe's edges. "Let's show it some of this gorgeous back," he said, easing the covering off her shoulders. His knuckles caressed her skin as he slowly dragged the material all the way down her arms to her wrists. "Straighten your spine, darlin'," he whispered, and his finger stroked the length of that column.

  The gooseflesh he raised had nothing to do with the temperature in the room.

  "Such a beautiful back," he complimented as the rest of his fingers entered the play and made a shivery path over her shoulders. "Almost as beautiful as the front." His hands cupped her breasts, and she leaned back against him.

  "Drew, please." She moaned when his fingers toyed with her nipples. "No more."

  "No more?" His voice was husky with the urgent desire for quite the opposite. "Or more?"

  In answer, she turned, unbuckled his belt and pulled down his zipper. His hands joined hers to quicken his undressing and in seconds his naked body was stretched out over hers, just like the scene he had described to seduce her.

  Before she welcomed him into her body and granted them both what they desperately needed, she begged a favor. "Please destroy that film."

  His sexy grin was full of mischief. "What film?"

  Chapter 14

  Juliette was not very happy about having to come up with a plan that had to be carried out so fast. She preferred plans that took time to prepare—the kind that showed how very smart she was. But Selena had explained why they must hurry, and Juliette did the best she could within the set rules.