by Jeanne Rose
“Adriana, welcome to my home.” Staring into her eyes, Val descended the remaining steps and joined her. He found her hand, raised it and sensually touched her flesh with his lips. Only then did he turn his gaze to the stranger. “Detective, what can I do for you?”
A grimace that passed for a smile briefly crossed Detective Carmine Panchella’s hard features. “I came to ask you a coupla questions about Eddie Szewicki.”
“Perhaps we should sit.”
Val led the way through the deepening gloom into the living room. He took the lone upholstered chair and Adriana sat on the end of the couch closest to him, while the detective took the other end. Unbuttoning her jacket, she slipped it off but let the garment encircle her shoulders since the house was chilly and didn’t seem to be heated.
“Now what is it you want to ask me?”
“Uh, it’s kinda dark in here,” Panchella complained as he whipped a pad and pen from his jacket pocket. “Think you can scramble up some light?”
“Certainly.”
Val reached out and switched on the lamp which pooled the sitting area with a glow so soft that Adriana guessed it to be less than forty watts. Either Val liked living with sparse furnishings in the near dark, or he’d been too busy with his photography and the family matter he’d mentioned to take care of his own comfort. Not that he appeared to be having any trouble seeing. His gaze roamed purposely across her dark green pleated blouse. In response, her breasts tightened beneath the thin material.
Oblivious to the tension building between her and Val, Panchella asked, “That’s it?”
Without taking his eyes off her, Val softly replied, “I can light candles.”
“Big help. Never mind. I’ll try the Braille method here.” The policeman flipped open his notebook. “We got kind of a curious call down at the station late last night.” He paused a second before casually saying, “Someone suggested we talk to you about Eddie Szewicki’s death.”
Attention on the policeman, Val crossed his legs and relaxed against the back of the chair. “Someone?”
“An anonymous tip. So why would anyone want to give us your name?”
Adriana watched the detective doodling on his pad of paper, as if he were pretending to be taking notes. Coming to Val’s defense, she told Panchella, “Probably because we were asking around about Eddie last night.” Surely the police didn’t suspect him because of a crank call. “First at the SRO where Eddie bunked some nights, then at the morgue. Didn’t this anonymous caller mention me?”
“Nope. Though I am aware of your activities, Miss Thorn. The two of you and the Murphy woman. Me and the morgue attendant Wendell compared notes before I came to see you. That’s how I got this address.”
“Your point, Detective,” Val said, his tone growing impatient.
And Adriana could swear Panchella was squirming in his seat.
“I’m gettin’ to the point.” He took a big breath first. “Okay, so this nut case said something wild about a vampire being on the loose and that we should talk to Valentin Kadar ‘cause he would know about it.”
Mouth open, Adriana could barely contain her anger. What was it with this vampire business? Did everyone think Eddie’s death was some kind of joke?
“A vampire?” To her relief, Val presented the detective with a completely straight face when he said, “Surely a rational man as yourself doesn’t believe in such an untenable explanation for the poor man’s death.”
“Me? Nah. Of course not.”
“The marks on Eddie’s neck were not made by teeth or fangs of any kind,” Val went on. “The holes were precise . . . smooth . . . as if made by a metal or perhaps plastic instrument. An unusual weapon to be sure.”
“So the medical examiner told me.” Panchella slitted his eyes at Val when he asked, “But how did you know all that, Mr. Kadar?”
Wondering if Val might not get himself in trouble by admitting he’d checked out the body personally, even though he wasn’t supposed to have gotten near it, Adriana was relieved when he said, “To think otherwise would mean that I believed in vampires.”
Both men smiled, their expressions that of two resourceful opponents.
Then the detective sobered.
And Adriana tensed when Panchella said, “On the other hand, Mr. Kadar, you’d also know about the wound site if you were the killer.”
“If I were the killer, Detective, wouldn’t I be a bit foolish to claim the body?”
Panchella thought a moment. “Okay, makes sense,” he conceded, barely pausing before pouncing once more. “So why did you claim the body? You and Eddie good friends?”
“I’d barely met the man.”
Noticing the gray cat was lurking in the shadows, its complete attention on Val, Adriana said, “He did it as a favor to me, Detective. I knew Eddie for some years and his death was so upsetting.”
”Ah, so you knew him.”
And Adriana found herself in the unenviable position of having the detective’s full attention trained on her. She shrank back into the corner of the couch. “He was the roommate of a former friend.”
“And you saw him last . . . when?” He’d stopped his doodling and was now taking notes for real.
Adriana swallowed. “The morning he died. Eddie was in the park by the Water Tower, playing his violin for contributions.” Which sounded much more dignified than panhandling.
“You were alone?”
“We were together.” Val now sounded as if he were coming to her defense. “I walked Adriana to her home.”
Adriana’s realization that he’d conveniently skipped the part about having followed her and catching up to her when she’d been talking to Eddie made her a little uneasy. A movement from the shadows distracted her train of thought, however. The cat slid along the chair, and as if recognizing its silent presence through some sixth sense, Val dropped his hand and stroked the animal.
And, despite the serious situation, Adriana wished he were stroking her.
“So you were both in the vicinity,” Panchella was saying. “How long before he died?”
Val’s sardonic smile slid into place. “I could only know that if I killed him, Detective.”
“Good answer.”
Picking up the cat, Val uncrossed his legs and stood. “Will that be all?” His body language clearly stated that, as far as he was concerned, this interview was over.
“For now.” Detective Carmine Panchella took his time getting himself together and to the door. “But let me give you two some friendly advice.”
“And what would that be?” Adriana found herself asking in a none-too-friendly way.
“Neither of you think about leaving town soon.”
“We have to bury Eddie first,” she said coolly, standing next to Val and absently fingering one of the cat’s silky ears. She almost felt as if she were touching him. “Can you tell me when that might be?”
“I’ll give the medical examiner’s office the high sign.” He opened the door to the night. It was already after dark. “You can claim your friend’s remains first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you.”
Adriana broke the tenuous connection with Val, moved to the door and watched the detective rush down the stairs and to his car. Then she realized Val was watching her. Warmth spread along her limbs and through her center. She didn’t turn away. She wanted Val’s golden gaze on her. Wanted something far, far more tangible from him . . . and an elusive something that she suspected might be unattainable.
Shaking away the renewed longing she’d experienced all morning, she chose to satisfy her curiosity about the latest development in Eddie’s murder. “Can you believe someone made a crank call to implicate you?”
“People often do strange things.”
He said it so calmly. She was surprised that he didn’t seem to share her sense of righteous indignation. “But who?”
Val was stroking the cat, the sensuous action threatening to mesmerize her.
“It c
ould be anyone,” he said. “Someone I offended . . . even the killer himself.”
She tore her gaze away from Val’s hand and the animal who was purring loud enough to be heard. “That would mean you know the killer.”
He shrugged. “Or that he knows me. Or perhaps he merely obtained my name from the morgue attendant in hopes that he could throw off the authorities.”
Thinking about being implicated in murder, Adriana rubbed the sudden gooseflesh from her arms and realized she’d left her jacket on the couch. “It’s a bit chilly in here.”
“Is it? Cold doesn’t bother me. Perhaps I should turn on the heat.”
“That’s all right,” she said, making for the couch. “By the time the radiators get hot, I’ll probably be gone.”
“Pity.” He sounded both disappointed and resigned. “But then I have some things I must take care of myself tonight.”
Biting back disappointment – part of her had wanted Val to insist she stay – Adriana slipped the jacket over her shoulders.
The cat meowed and Val said, “I think this fellow needs some food. If you’ll excuse me a moment . . . “
”I’ll come with you. I love cats and have one of my own. What’s his name?”
Val led the way through the dining room. “He has not told me.”
“Excuse me?”
The sardonic smile touched Val’s lips. “I meant that I do not know his name.”
“You mean you didn’t give him one?”
“He doesn’t belong to me.” Still holding the cat, Val kept going, right through the dining room into the dimly lit kitchen whose appliances seemed nearly old-fashioned enough to be original to the house. “I merely feed him along with several of his companions.”
“But you let him inside.”
“He let himself inside, probably through a basement window. Not that I mind.”
Noticing the cat had placed his front paws on Val’s shoulder, and that he was pushing his head at Val’s face, Adriana smiled. “I’d say he thinks he belongs to you.”
“We have an understanding.”
He set the cat down, opened the back door and grabbed a bag of dry cat food from its resting place on a window sill. Adriana followed him onto the rear porch where a tabby waited in the shadows. No bulb in the porch light, but one could see well enough under the yellow glow provided by the huge lights in the alley. The moment cat crunchies hit one of the several bowls laid out along the building, the striped cat darted forward, competing with the gray.
“There’s enough for everyone to feed,” Val scolded the hungry animal softly. He filled a second bowl, then another.
Adriana heard a plop and turned to see a filthy red and white cat vault the rickety railing. A calico came running from the opposite direction. By the time the half-dozen bowls were filled, they were all occupied.
Warmth threaded through her. She pictured Phantom when she’d found her pet, could remember clearly how emaciated the poor kitty had been. A couple of the alley cats were nearly as thin, but it was obvious they wouldn’t be for long under Val’s generous care. The strays were properly appreciative, a few even looking for affection along with the food. At her very vocal demand, Val ran his hand up the calico’s spine and tail, the cat arching and giving him a look that could only be described as adoring.
Adriana was experiencing a bit of adoration herself at the moment . . . as well as amusement. If Val thought these cats didn’t belong to him, he had another think coming.
He replaced the bag of cat food on the inner window sill, and she helped get fresh water for the animals. A new arrival – a young black cat, maybe half grown – wound itself around Val’s ankles. He fluffed its fur and gave it a pat in the direction of the food bowls before heading back inside.
He closed but didn’t bother to lock the back door. Adriana thought about suggesting he do so. Somehow, she suspected he might laugh at her cautionary advice.
Instead, she said, “It’s kind of you to care for all those strays.”
He shrugged off the flattery and stepped close enough so that she could feel his breath on her face. “I have an affinity for lost creatures of the night.”
Adriana thought he might be even more of a night person than she. “You identify with them?” she asked, unable to tear her gaze from his.
“At times . . . yes. And taking care of any living creature helps me a little, helps makes up for–”
He didn’t finish the statement and he sounded so sad, almost miserable.
“Makes up for what?”
A lonely existence? Adriana was tempted to place her arms around him and tell him he didn’t have to feel lost and alone any more. Somehow, looking into his lean, chiseled face, she didn’t think he would be wholly appreciative of her sympathy. Everyone had his pride and she suspected Valentin Kadar had more than most.
“You seem so very sure of yourself,” she said instead, keeping her tone lighter than the wellspring of emotions flooding her. “Too sure to feel lost, certainly.”
“There are many ways of losing one’s self. Some less pleasant than others.”
She had no idea of what he was talking about and wasn’t certain she wanted him to explain. His gaze dropped to her mouth. He raised his hand. Ran a thumb over the lower lip that was still slightly swollen from his too-intense kiss of the night before.
Her pulse quickened. She felt as if she’d been stung. Not that he hurt her. More like made a connection. Electricity. No, darker. Something even more elemental and human. A stirring from the depths of her soul.
CHAPTER FIVE
“FORGIVE ME,” Val whispered, his expression serious.
“For what?”
“This.”
The pad of his thumb lightly traced the nick. She felt it again, stronger this time. A primal heartbeat. Her lashes fluttered and the room seemed to shift slightly. Her head grew light as if she’d had a bit too much wine, and she hadn’t even been drinking.
She swayed toward him, and for a moment thought Val might take her in his arms and reacquaint her with his embrace. Her body quickened. Her breasts tightened. And a flush crept through her.
He moved his hand, slowly, surely, tracing the line of her jaw, the length of her throat, the curve of her shoulder. Her breath grew shallow. He didn’t stop until he’d pushed her jacket aside and found her heartbeat through the thin material of her blouse and the aching flesh of her left breast.
“We’re beating as one,” he murmured, his face pale and serious.
“What do you think that means?” Mesmerized, she wondered if she should fight the feeling that enveloped her thoughts like cotton.
He didn’t answer. Merely gazed at her with a look so intense her pulse rushed in response. She was awash with heat. Damp. Her knees began to melt.
And then Val very deliberately broke the connection. Removing his hand. Turning away from her. Leading the way back through the house.
Suddenly feeling foolish at her overblown reaction to him, Adriana backed off mentally.
Val stopped at the staircase, opened a door that hid a closet beneath the steps, and traded the quilted jacket for a designer model, the kind she was used to seeing him in. He ran a comb through his hair, slicking it back, then found his sunglasses and slipped them into a breast pocket.
“I’d better get going,” she said.
“You have a vehicle?”
“No. I took public transportation.”
“But you will take a taxi home.” He opened the door for her in true gentlemanly fashion. “I shall see to it.”
She exited the spooky old house, biting back the caustic reply about being able to take care of herself that hovered around her lips. In truth, she wasn’t so certain she could always take care of herself – at least not where he was concerned. She’d never met a more compelling, more mesmerizing man. Certainly not one who got to her so deep so fast.
Compared to Valentin Kadar, Stone Drake was amateur-hour stuff.
Stone.
And somehow, with Val’s hand on her arm, guiding her down the rickety front steps, Stone’s double-dealing seemed less important than it once had.
Night cloaked the city streets, camouflaging many of their faults. The neighborhood felt more inviting. Even Val’s home appeared less decayed than it had in the daylight. Maybe she felt more at ease because she was so comfortable with the dark, in some ways truly the Daughter of the Night.
Only one discordant note bothered her. Again the feeling of being watched. A glance over her shoulder assured her no one was on the street. Shrugging off her uneasiness, something Val obviously didn’t share, she headed east.
“I thought we should figure out what to do about Eddie’s burial,” she said. And still wondered about his willingness to pay the expenses.
“I have contacted a funeral director who agreed to prepare him for burial immediately.” Val asked, “Eddie was Catholic, was he not?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“His last name. Good, then. I have made the correct arrangements, a plot at St. Boniface Cemetery, a few blocks from here.” He pointed straight north.
Adriana was happily surprised. “Have you contacted a priest, too?”
Even under the streetlights, she could see the shadow cross Val’s features. “I leave that and the other specifics up to you.”
That was more than fair and something she really wanted to do for Eddie. “I don’t know what church he went to, but I’ll find a priest from somewhere. Since we don’t even know if anyone will be there but you, me, Irina and Louis, I thought we should keep things simple, maybe have a gravesite service.”
“I shall do my best to be there for you.”
Adriana’s mouth fell open. She hadn’t considered his not being there. Then again, he hadn’t known Eddie. “I understand.”