Burning Kiss

by Angela Addams

  We had an interview with Arthur at ten. He had class to teach later in the afternoon and was postponing student conferencing for Eddie and his questions.

  “Thanks for arranging this, Jade.” Eddie approached with two coffees, a lopsided smile on his lips. “I see you’re already caffeinating.”

  I downed the rest of mine and gladly accepted his, totally in need of another hit. I wasn’t sleeping great again. Part of it was the excitement of fucking Steve—or fucking over Steve. He’d called and texted me a few dozen times the night before. Naturally, I ignored him. There was no part of me even curious about what he wanted. I knew the drill. He’d thought he’d hooked me and was assuming we were on again. I’d finally just turned my phone off.

  And then there were old scars tearing open. Which maybe weren’t exactly scars, but barely scabbed-over pussing wounds. Kassey coming home was a major trigger, obviously. It made me doubt the wisdom of having her back at the condo in the first place. Maybe we needed to sell it. It would probably cause her stress just being there. All those awful memories.

  I gave my head a shake. No. Kassey wanted to come home. She needed to come home. Just her being there would fix things. Her presence. Us together. It would help us mend. We hadn’t been apart since we were kids. Like sisters. Doing everything together. And so we needed this. I would keep her safe. I would make sure she was cared for. We were both therapists, for fuck’s sake. We’d deal with the trauma together.

  Seeing Arthur yesterday, treading so close to emotions and tenderness for him, knowing that he wanted me to open up… Yeah, he was a weakness for me, too. He could penetrate my walls. And I couldn’t bullshit him either. He’d strip me wide open and start pulling out my guts all in the name of therapy. He would make me stop all destructive behaviour. He wouldn’t understand it. Nope, not ready for that, and now, not sleeping more than an hour or two at most. Avoidance had been working for me—it wasn’t the best strategy but I needed more time away before I could face Arthur again and keep my shields up around him too. After this meeting, I was going AWOL. I’d do a little more hard-core self-therapy. At least until the nightmares stopped.

  “He’s not happy about this,” I said as I motioned for us to walk. “I’d expect a little resistance.”

  “Yeah, I figured. It comes with the territory though and once we’re done today, I’ll get what I need to hopefully cross him off my list.”

  I nodded, frowning a little. Hopefully. I wanted to argue the word. Hopefully? No, you will cross Arthur off your list. But I kept my lips closed. I’d be in the room, I’d be there to massage anything that needed massaging. Arthur would be crossed off that list and safely away from any suspicion. And then we’d all go on with our fucking lives.

  We entered the Psychology building, and I had another moment of longing wash over me. Seeing all the young students hurrying through the halls, scrambling to get to lectures, buzzing with early morning excitement of various levels, I missed being in school. To be surrounded by like-minded people all eager and absorb what was being offered. I missed the idea of research, the excitement of a new idea, the inquiry process, the journey to answers. It was all thrilling. I craved that tremendously. I had no desire to pursue my original focus area of rehabilitation. Did it work? For convicted rapists, no. Rapists, especially those who were repeat offenders, could not be rehabilitated. Their urges, impulses, were too strong to ever really go away. So there would always be the risk to reoffend. Always. The delusional bubble I’d wrapped myself in thinking things could go otherwise had burst with a deafening pop. I was no superhero therapist.

  My thoughts turned dark. So dark. Flashes of memory. Screaming. Moaning. The violence of a struggle. Blood. So much damn blood.

  “Through here?” Eddie held a door open, my distracted thoughts taking me far away.

  I gave my head a shake, tried to clear those memories before they took me to other, darker memories. Arthur would know. He’d see them there on the surface. I nodded, not daring to speak, and took a long pull from my coffee.

  Lock it down. Keep your shit under control, Jade. Breathe in. Breathe out. Forget.

  We walked in silence, me leading the way again, eyes focused, not looking at anyone who passed. Get to the office. That was the goal. We left the lecture halls and headed down the few stairs that would take us to the administrative wing. The building itself was old, beautiful in its ornate details. The walls wood panelled, sconces holding antique lanterns, floors carpeted with intricate patterns, worn from years of tread but breathtaking all the same. I ran my fingers along the smooth wooden wall rail, grounding myself, keeping my thoughts in the present.

  We passed Steve’s office; his door was partially ajar and I could hear him speaking to someone. His deep voice, the response of a soft girlish laugh and then a gasp. Entertaining as usual. I waited for the jab of jealousy. Nothing came.

  I smiled. I’d purged him. I’d won.

  By the time we entered Arthur’s outer office, my state of mind was back to normal—or at least back to my fucked up reality of normal. I was invincible.

  “Do you hunt, Professor Stone?” Eddie was studying one wall of Arthur’s mounted shotguns.

  “Not anymore, no.” Arthur patted my back as he walked toward Eddie, hand extended. “And as you can see, all of my weapons are properly locked and secured. These were never meant to be used for shooting.”

  “Yes, it looks like you’re following gun laws for safe display to me.” Eddie turned, taken a little by surprise, as was I, by the friendly gesture. He shook Arthur’s hand. “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting. I know that things didn’t go well the last time and I apologize again for that.”

  Arthur snorted, shook Eddie’s hand briefly and then took a seat in his favourite chair. He motioned for us to sit. “Do either of you want something to drink or are the coffees sufficient?”

  “I’m good, Arthur.” I moved off to the side, taking position by the bar, leaning more than sitting at the sole stool that was there.

  “Coffee is good for me as well.” Eddie pulled out his phone, which was actually the size of a small tablet and began swiping and scrolling. “I’d like to start with the timeline, if you don’t mind.”

  Arthur gave a dismissive wave, his eyes wandering lazily. I could tell by his expression that he wasn’t impressed with Eddie. Nothing the detective could do would ever redeem him in Arthur’s mind. As far as he was concerned, Eddie was an idiot and below any basic level of respect Arthur might have had for his badge. Whatever pleasantries that had happened so far had been purely for my benefit. I knew Arthur well enough to understand that. If I felt it was important, he would indulge me. I cringed to think what the interview would produce. Arthur wasn’t that good with hiding disdain.

  “Where were you the night Candace Bryne was murdered?”

  “At home, alone.” Arthur glanced at me and rolled his eyes.

  I frowned. Well, that was one way to start things.

  Eddie tapped the information into his phone then looked up with a cocked eyebrow. “You know that means—”

  “That I have no alibi? Yes, I’m aware of that.”

  “Okay,” Eddie blew out a breath. “Let’s backtrack a bit. Earlier in the afternoon, you were texting with Miss Bryne.”

  “Indeed I was. She was working on a crucial part of her thesis that she needed support with. We usually met on Thursday evenings but she was waffling on coming by.”

  “And so did you end up meeting with her?”

  Arthur frowned. “Obviously not, or the poor girl wouldn’t be dead right now, would she?”

  His tone surprised me, like an elastic band snapping, his words were edged with something sounding like anger. Was it anger toward Eddie? Anger toward the horrible, untimely loss of a prized student?

  Eddie didn’t seem to notice as he typed away on his phone. “The text messages end abruptly, no resolution.”

  “Yes, she called me to continue the conversation.”

 
That got Eddie’s attention. He quickly scrolled through his notes. “From her cell phone?” He looked up again.

  “No, she said she lost reception and called me from one of the campus phones.”

  Eddie frowned. “And you spoke to her for how long?”

  Arthur sighed. “A few minutes, maybe.”

  “Is it common to exchange cell phone numbers with students, Professor Stone? To be in close communication with them like you were with Miss. Bryne?”

  “In this day, absolutely, otherwise I’d never be able to get a hold of them. Detective, you’re sitting there with your own phone glued to your hand and you’re asking me about the significance of using one in my profession? As for communication, it’s vital that I’m available to my thesis students at all times.” Arthur rose and walked toward me, his eyes meeting mine only briefly before he bypassed me for the small coffee maker. “I understand that you have an investigation to run, Detective, but are these questions really what you’re interested in having answered?”

  Arthur poured himself a coffee, black, and sipped it slowly. He cringed a little before taking a second sip.

  “You have no alibi for the night of the murder of one of your students—a student with whom you had plans to meet but didn’t. Yes, these are the questions I want answered.”

  Arthur snorted then moved over to his desk and sat on the corner. “I’m merely pointing out that there are better, more important questions to be asking, but you seem oblivious to them.”

  Time to massage before things went totally hostile. “I think what Arthur is trying to say—”

  “Jade, I’m certainly capable of speaking for myself,” Arthur said with a shake of his head. “For example, Detective, why don’t you ask me if I was at the library on the night of the murder?”

  “Okay.” Eddie was keeping his tone even, something I commended him for. “Were you at the library at any point that night?”

  “No, I wasn’t and I can prove it.” He slipped his hand into his breast pocket and pulled out a plastic card, holding it up for both of us to see. “All staff have a security card that grants us access to any building at any time.”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, the security system was down for maintenance that night, so there was no record of entry or exit at the library. There was also no video surveillance for the same reason. And the two guards patrolling that night had three other buildings to check and secure. The third guard called in sick. Campus was understaffed that night and security was totally lax. Something only a few people would know about.”

  Arthur’s eyes were wide with surprise as he slipped his security card back into his pocket. Eddie may have impressed him a tad with that thorough information.

  “Well, that does pose a problem then, doesn’t it?”

  “Indeed,” Eddie mimicked Arthur’s response from earlier. “Which is why I needed to speak with you. You know about the underground passageways, correct?”

  “Everyone knows about those,” Arthur said, his tone a little less harsh. “What of it?”

  Ah yes, I remembered as well. There were passageways that had been used in the past for students to go from one building to the next without having to venture outside. I’d never been in them myself—they were notoriously dark and creepy, the exact kind of place young women didn’t want to venture and they were typically off limits, barred with locked gates at both ends. The university wasn’t interested in spending the money to have them wired for security. That didn’t mean they weren’t used. There were rumours about skeleton keys and broken locks floating around.

  “There’s an entrance to one of the passageways in the library, quite close to where Miss Bryne’s body was found.”

  “I wouldn’t really know. The last time I used one of the tunnels, I was a student here myself.”

  “So you have been in them before?”

  “Of course I have,” Arthur said. “When I was a student, it was the most convenient way to get from one building to the next. You know how the winters get around here.”

  Eddie swiped his finger a few times across his screen then stood up and held his phone out toward Arthur. “This is a schematic of the passageways. Did you know that there’s an entrance to them in this office?”

  I opened my mouth but no words came out. Okay, this wasn’t good.

  Arthur glanced at the phone and nodded. “Ah, I see.” He took a gulp of his coffee then put the mug on his desk and pushed himself to his feet. “So that’s what you’re after, is it?”

  With a few quick strides he walked to the opposite side of his desk, reached into the bookshelf and shifted a small knob. There was a creaking groan and then the bookshelf shifted enough for Arthur to reach his hand around it and pull it open like a door.

  I was just as stunned as Eddie appeared to be. We both moved around so we could see what had been revealed.

  “Walled in?” If Eddie was disappointed, he hid it well. I had to give him credit for that.

  Arthur chuckled and I couldn’t help but smirk a little. So much for that theory, Detective.

  “So as you can see, I have no access to the passageways from this room and if you go to the main hall of this building, you’ll see that the second entrance has been double caged, with the older of the gates welded closed. No access from here.”

  “The one in the library is used,” Eddie said. “The hinges were recently oiled.”

  “So, that doesn’t mean anything,” I argued. “You could go down into the passageways from the library but not go anywhere. I don’t see what Arthur has to do with any of this other than some weak link to one of his students because of plans they’d had. Seriously, Detective, is there anything more you have to ask because I think that this interview is over.”

  Eddie frowned, opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again with a shake of his head. He slipped his phone into his pocket.

  Arthur gave a short chuckle and patted Eddie on the shoulder. “I’m glad we got this cleared up and I’d like to thank you for insisting on this meeting. It has been very enlightening.”

  What he meant was amusing, I could read it on him. He found Eddie’s fumble to be funny as all hell, and also confirmed his opinion of the detective.

  Eddie mumbled something unintelligible. Arthur ushered us both back so he could shut the shelf door.

  “I’ve got a class to prepare for, so if you don’t mind…” He motioned toward the door.

  I shook my head a little, and he winked, obviously pleased with himself.

  I glanced up as we headed out, noticing for the first time that there was a new painting mounted above the door. It was oil to be sure, fine brush strokes, exquisite detail. A portrait of a lovely woman, young but not youthful, long auburn hair, heart shaped face, green eyes that came alive on the canvas. The dead wife. “That’s new.” I motioned to the picture.

  Arthur glanced up. “Ah yes. My Lizzy.”

  “It’s lovely.” My heart thudded in sympathy for him. Her death was something he would never overcome completely. She’d been his soulmate. His beloved. For him to have her memorialized in such a public way was a tremendous step forward.

  “She passed a few years ago, right?” Eddie asked. “My condolences.”

  “Yes, and thank you.” Arthur’s eyes teared a bit. “I had this commissioned by a student of mine. A talented girl who has been dabbling in Psych, a minor interest for her. I’ve been trying to pull her over from the Art Department, but she won’t give me her heart I’m afraid. A true artist.”

  I smiled. Arthur was always trying to win new students over, especially those who showed promise. “She is very talented.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Have you considered remarrying?”

  I frowned at Eddie, about to tell him to shut the fuck up. What a presumptuous question and so abrupt.

  “I only ask because my father is going through a similar loss. My step-mother passed a few years ago and he can’t seem to move on from it.”

&nbs
p; Arthur nodded with apparent understanding. “I’m sorry to hear that and no, there is no woman on Earth who could compare to my Lizzy.”

  I motioned for us to leave.

  Ignoring me, Eddie moved closer, neck craned. “And what does the plaque say there?”

  Arthur turned from the painting, heading back to his chair. “Elizabeth Stone, My Last Duchess.”

  “It’s a beautiful tribute,” Eddie said. “Thank you for your time, Professor.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Detective, but I truly hope never to see you again,” Arthur said as he sat behind his desk.

  Eddie chuckled. “I can appreciate that. Have a good day.” He turned to me, his hand out to indicate that I should leave first.

  I shook my head, dismissing that idea. Eddie sighed and walked out, waiting for me just on the other side.

  “Remember, Jade,” Arthur said, a stern look on his face. “You owe me one.”

  I gave a tight nod. “How could I forget?” I mumbled before following Eddie out. Arthur might have been out of the proverbial frying pan, but now I’d put myself in it. I knew he’d try to figure out a way to dig out my deepest, darkest secrets. And that could never happen.

  9

  Eddie had things to do and we parted ways with plans to chat later. Whatever that meant to him, I didn’t know. What it meant to me was that the case was closed and Arthur was out of the suspect pool. I didn’t feel sorry for him—he’d set up to trap Arthur and had failed. I’d warned him and was ready to tell him so if he complained.

  If it bothered him at all, though, he didn’t seek any condolences. In fact, he seemed to be in a relatively good mood as he hastily said bye and left me outside of the Psych building.

  I glanced around, my gaze landing on the library. Hmmm.

  The crux of Eddie’s suspicions rested on the passageways. I remembered the one that exited into the back of the library…vaguely. Despite being locked, and dangerous, everyone knew the tunnels were being used. For dares, midnight trysts, shits and giggles, brave students definitely busted the locks and snuck down there from time to time. The passageways had always creeped me out. All those urban legend type tales about women being raped and murdered in just such a university passageway had me avoiding them altogether as a student. There was talk of ghosts, which I’d usually scoffed at. I didn’t need the fear of something non-corporeal to keep me outta there.