Now Michael saw it all laid out, impossible to miss. So much for keeping up the everything’s-hunky-dory-at-CeeCee’s-house front.
It took all I had to get myself in control. When I did, I was counting on moving along with our search and pretending nothing happened, but Michael wouldn’t let me off that easy. I started to walk again, but he stepped in front of me, his eyes full of concern and knowledge of the truth.
“Got over the rocky patch, did you? Why do I get the impression the tension in our little meeting wasn’t all about me for once? Who was the rookie?”
I sat down on a tree stump and let out a sigh. I couldn’t hold it in. There was no reason to pretend or hide from Michael anymore. I told him about Jordan, the rumors, and the strain my relationship with Eric has been under since he, Michael, came back into the picture.
“Maybe Eric’s trying to get back at me for what we did last year. Or maybe I was the one drumming up all the problems so I wouldn’t have to acknowledge that my feelings for you haven’t faded in the slightest over the past year. Not even a little. Never in my life did I ever think it was possible to be in love with two people,” I said softly, picking up a stick and poking it around in the dirt.
Michael stood, looking down at me, listening intently. When I was finished, he knelt and took my stick away, tossing it into the woods, before grabbing my hands.
“Maybe I have the solution. I’ll leave tomorrow, send another agent, and simply never come back. It hurts too much to see you so unhappy, and if I can fix it by leaving, that’s the way it has to be.”
I looked at Michael’s eyes, his lips, his hair. I didn’t want him to leave, not a second time. And certainly not forever.
“Unfortunately, whether you leave or not, it doesn’t matter. Things will be the same. Eric will be training Jordan, or sleeping with her for all I know, and he’ll still resent me for the relationship you and I had last year.” I paused and put my hand up to Michael’s cheek. “And most of all, I don’t want you to leave.”
Michael squeezed my hand tightly before standing up and looking at his watch.
“I’ll stay. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear you say that, but it also scares the shit out of me. Who knows what’s in the cards for any of us, but right now, let’s just see what happens. We can talk more later. Right now, we’ve only got another hour of searching before it gets dark.” He held out a strong, firm hand, pulling me up from my perch on the tree stump.
He wasn’t careful anymore. It didn’t matter. All the time he had taken to get the lips just right, no smudges or mistakes; the eyes dramatic with big, full lashes; cheeks a deep, glowing red was nothing but a distant memory. He still made the effect as best as he could with what time he had, but it was fine. They had gotten it. He didn’t even curl her hair, just lazily tied the ribbon in, not caring when it slumped and fell to the side. There, there, my beautiful love, he thought, now we’re as one.…I didn’t feel guilty, not one bit, for finally telling Michael how I felt. I was relieved that it was out in the open. Finally. What I did feel was anger at Eric. To be blunt, he might as well have picked me up bodily and thrown me into bed with Michael, as much as he was pushing me away and letting me think something was going on with Jordan. As childish as that sounds, it’s the God’s honest truth. The best thing Eric could’ve done was be himself; loving, attentive, honest, and most of all, faithful.
Michael didn’t say much. He knew me well enough to let me be. Kincaid had given us the first slot of the four-hour rest breaks because we’d been at work since early that morning. I was beyond exhausted. Four hours didn’t seem like much, but it was better than nothing.Eric and I lived in the city only a short drive away, so I told Michael I just wanted to go home and sleep. There was disappointment and worry in his eyes; he knew Eric got off work at ten. I felt like adding that it was highly unlikely, after tonight’s episode, that Eric and I would roll around in bed like a couple of newlyweds, but I declined. I didn’t think Michael and I were quite at a level where he needed to know that.
Naturally, my alarm seemed to go off right after I fell asleep, but the clock showed that, indeed, four hours had passed. I saw Eric sleeping peacefully by my side. It was a good sign that at least he came home. Not that I expected he wouldn’t, but nothing was normal anymore, and I wouldn’t have been surprised at anything. I quietly took a quick shower and put on fresh clothes before heading back to the department.
Michael wasn’t there yet, but he came strolling in shortly. He didn’t look like he slept much, if at all. Coop was thrilled to see us, desperate as he was for his own four-hour reprieve. He was halfway out the door, waiting for us so he could leave.
Drinking our third cup of coffee to wake ourselves up and clear our heads, Michael and I finally started in on the case. Now both cases had become full-blown national news, and our parking lot had enough news vans to cover the O. J. Simpson trial. A section of the road that runs alongside the department had actually been closed off to hold what media the parking lot couldn’t. The department helicopters were still in the air, searching the county. Every poor soul who drove a white station wagon was pulled over and put on the ground at gunpoint. Most people understood. Unless you lived in a coal mine, it was impossible not to know what was going on. A few who were stopped threatened lawsuits, but nothing anyone took seriously.
For the next two days, Michael and I scoured every possible lead. The media was pressuring everyone, Michael and me the most.
The only good the media brought was that three other law-enforcement agencies contacted us with similar murders. They had missed our teletypes, but saw the news. Detectives from the Topeka PD, in Kansas, the Peoria PD in Illinois, and the Indianapolis PD were flying in first thing the next day with their files. The detective from Tampa was coming the day after. Each of their cases was over ten years old. The FBI officially took over the investigation on the second morning Ashley Sanders was missing, because, for now, it seemed the suspect was staying in this area. They formed a task force headquartered at Richland Metro with all the agency detectives, including me, and put Michael in charge of it all.
After doing everything humanly possible to try to find Ashley Sanders, we hit a dead end, and she’d only been missing for two days. There were uniform officers that had been awake for forty-eight hours straight, walking every square inch of the county. If Ashley Sanders was in Richland County, we would have found her.
The afternoon of the second day was spent arranging the room for the task force, a large conference room in the detective bureau. All the photographs of the victims with all their information had to be visibly posted on the wall and each investigator had to have a work space. Michael must’ve read my mind after we finished putting the room together.
“I really need a drink. We don’t have to be back until five tomorrow morning, so how ’bout it?”
“Follow me, sir. I shall lead ye to the nearest watering hole,” I said in a horrible, fake English accent, waving my arm toward the door.
Michael laughed out loud. I told him I would meet him out by my car, but needed to make a phone call first. I wanted to try to call Eric before we left since I hadn’t spoken to him in two days. He was on a day off today, so I couldn’t catch him at roll call. He’d been avoiding my calls and only left messages about the girls on my voice mail. My mother got the girls yesterday and took them back to Cleveland for a week—or two if needed—of fun and sun by the lake. Selina only had a couple days of school left anyway, so it didn’t matter. My mom was used to helping out when a case consumed our lives, and the girls just looked at it as another vacation. Eric and I were very lucky. The girls adored both sets of grandparents and loved spending as much time with them as possible.
I didn’t call Eric after all. I was tired of constantly trying to communicate with him when he was not making any attempt to contact me. Nothing. From now on, if he wanted to talk, he could find a way to get hold of me. The anxiety, pain, and fear of the situation notwithstandi
ng, I’d had it.
We went to the quietest dive bar I knew, with maybe four local drunks in the entire place, and took seats at the bar. The bartender greeted me by name. (Coop and I have had many a drink there.)
“Old boyfriend?” Behind a straight face, Michael’s eyes laughed.
“Cute, Michael.”
For the next five hours, we did shot after shot, and drank beer after beer, hitting such an inebriated state that it was impossible not to talk openly. Neither of us could control what was coming out of our mouths. There was also the chance that we would get called back to work, so we were taking a huge risk drinking like we were. It was only when I asked Michael a question I’ve always wanted to know the answer to, that I thought, maybe, I went too far. I turned my stool to face him. The stools were so close together, our legs intertwined. Seeing two Michaels, I grabbed his face and pulled him as close to mine as possible, and tried to speak as clearly as I could, hoping my question didn’t come out in one long unintelligible mush of words.
“Michael, come here.”
“I’m as close as I’m gonna get.” He was laughing and waving his arms loosely.
“Do you regret not making love to me when we were in West Virginia last year? I want the truth.”
He stopped laughing, and in fact, didn’t smile at all. I let go of his face, thinking I’d made him angry. His stare suddenly became so fixed, I thought for a brief second he wanted to haul off and hit me.
“Michael, I’m sor—”
“Stop, CeeCee. We went over this before. But now, a year later, do you really, I mean really, want me to answer that truthfully?”
“Michael, if you don’t want to. I wasn’t trying to upset—”
“Answer me. Do you want the truth?”
“Yes,” I answered timidly, although now I wasn’t so sure. But it was too late to back down.
He put his beer down on the bar before turning back to face me again. He sat looking at me for thirty seconds before taking a deep breath.
“Every day of every week of every month of the entire last year, I have done nothing but regret the decision I made that night. I have tried to will myself back in time so I can change the past, like a character in some dopey movie.” He grabbed his beer and took a long drink. “My first day back, when I saw you, I felt like someone smacked me with a hammer. All I could think about was I had a chance to be with you, make love to you, and I blew it. I can’t help but think that had I made a different decision, you would be with me now, and not Eric.”
He took another drink and continued. “Every time I was in Cleveland seeing my son, all I could think about was how close you were. Just a short drive away. There was a time, about three months ago, when I couldn’t take it anymore and drove down to talk to you. I sat in the department parking lot till you walked out and got in your car, but lost my nerve and drove right back. Seeing you for a few seconds like that did nothing but make it worse, plus I felt like a stalker.”
I just stared at him and realized, like I had that night in West Virginia, that I wanted him more than anything right then, and I didn’t believe the alcohol had anything to do with it. It simply made me more impatient. I was getting ready to suggest we could easily make up for lost time, but he wanted answers from me first.
“Now it’s your turn. Something I want to ask you, and I want the truth.”
I didn’t know what was about to happen and I was very scared, actually. If I thought all Michael wanted to know was whether I would sleep with him now, we’d be out the door. Unfortunately, I was smart enough to know that wasn’t all he wanted, and my nerves broke through, something Michael noticed immediately.
“CeeCee, stop being nervous, you don’t even know what I’m going to say,” he said, lightly putting his hand on my knee and leaning forward.
Sorry, but I had a pretty good idea. I was a decent investigator myself, and even being as drunk as I was, I braced for the question. I was scared because I knew I wouldn’t be able to lie to him, this close, face to face. Or ever.
“Go ahead, Michael. Ask.”
“I want to know…did you ever regret not choosing me over Eric, even once?”
I knew it, and as much as I wanted to lie for the sake of my marriage, I couldn’t. Michael was as rattled as I was, nervously anticipating my answer, so I gave it to him, slowly and truthfully.
“Yes, Michael. I have had times where I have regretted it. Now, particularly, is one of those times.”
Michael didn’t answer; he merely pulled me to him and began kissing me slowly and passionately. I didn’t feel guilty, I didn’t pull away, and I wanted not part of him, but all of him.
He didn’t think they would make it to the motel the way they were kissing and fondling each other in the parking lot of the seedy bar. How lovely. CeeCee Gallagher was nothing but an unfaithful, cheating whore. Maybe he could use this to his advantage. It wasn’t necessary even to maintain a safe distance when he followed them back to Agent Hagerman’s motel; they would never notice they were being followed. They were too drunk and too engulfed in their own sexual urges. He could relate to that, he thought as he began humming. Oh, the excitement he felt at his own brilliance! Fooling two smart, high-profile investigators almost compared to the feelings he felt when he was with Elsa—but not quite, for there was nothing in human consciousness that compared to that. He snapped the picture before they clumsily stumbled into the motel room. Then it was time to leave. They would be there all night, and he had other things to prepare for.…
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It seemed we couldn’t get back to his hotel room fast enough, barely getting through the door before we were pulling each other’s clothes off. An entire year of waiting and wanting exploded that very minute. He was everything I hoped for and someone I badly needed.We fell onto the bed in a mad frenzy. Then he suddenly stopped. For a split second I thought he was going to back out again until I recognized he was just enjoying the moment and trying to believe it was truly happening. We hadn’t even made love yet, and feeling his body on top of mine was too much; I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t think I could. It was clearly important to Michael, though. He gently brushed away the long, blonde hair that had fallen on my face and lightly touched my cheek. He was shaking a little, just as I remember he did that night in West Virginia.
“I have to say something,” he whispered. “I know you’re confused about how you feel right now, but I need you to know that I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you since the day we met, CeeCee.”
“I do love you, Michael, don’t ever doubt that.”
And then we made love, over and over, falling asleep in each other’s arms a little less than two hours before we had to be back at the department. In the middle of my slumber, I awoke to see Michael propped up on his elbow gazing down at me. I felt myself begin to smile. “Go back to sleep. We’ve only got a bit more time till we have to be back at work.”
“I can’t, CeeCee. I don’t know if this will ever happen again, and I can’t believe it’s happening now. I want to enjoy every minute I have you to myself.” I kept smiling until I fell back asleep.
I heard Michael whistling in the shower when our wake-up call came. I was exhausted and thoroughly hungover. Thankfully, I had a spare set of clothes in my car that I routinely kept in case I got caught at work. I can’t even imagine explaining to Eric where I’d been all night. I have never slept with another man while I was married. The magnitude of what I had done quickly set in. But I pushed those demons away for the moment and climbed out of bed.
By the time I had gotten my clothes out of the car, Michael was out of the shower. We didn’t have much time, so I took a quick shower, threw on some clothes and a dash of makeup, and, ready to go, grabbed my bag and car keys. Michael was already waiting at the door. We hadn’t spoken much that morning, which Michael did not fail to point out on the way to the department.
“CeeCee, you really OK? You haven’t said much since you got up.”
&n
bsp; “I’m fine.” Michael probably saw through my fake smile instantly. “I’m just tired.”
Michael remained quiet the rest of the ride to work. Now that our situation was out in the open, he knew I was in extreme turmoil, and it scared him. It scared me, too. All I could think about was my girls and how Eric was their father, and I may have just thrown it all away. The bad part was, I did love Michael, and that just made things more complicated and agonizing.
Coop and Kincaid were waiting. Coop looked at me as if the imaginary letter imprinted on my chest was bright pink neon instead of regulation scarlet. I remember back in college I had the standard couple of indiscretions. My roommate and I would always laugh that the walk back to our apartment the morning after was the walk of shame. That was exactly how I felt now, and Coop’s accusing stare didn’t help. He knew exactly what had happened.
My habit was to play my office voice mail on the speakerphone so I could do something else while I listened. The first message blaring out of the phone came in at two in the morning. It was Eric, trying to find out where I was. I hit the off button immediately. Too loud and too late. Michael, sensing the tension, excused himself to go get a coffee. Kincaid followed. Then Coop started in.
“Interesting message. Funny, Eric called my cell at three this morning looking for you. I didn’t know what to say since the last time I saw you was four o’clock yesterday afternoon when you were leaving with Michael.”
I glared at him, one of my best and closest friends. However, he needed to be careful about where his loyalties lay, or decide whether he should remain neutral. He was good friends with Eric and worked with me, was my friend as well. His best bet would be to stay out of it.
“Hmm. Jordan must’ve had something to do. I’m amazed he actually found time to call his wife,” I barked, grabbing files and stuffing them in my bag.
“Stop it. CeeCee, do you know for a fact that something is going on with Eric and Jordan? Or are you just assuming?”
The Devil's Closet Page 7