“I’m unarmed!” He yelled. “What are you people doing here?!”
“Frisk him.” The senior officer commanded. “Mr. Farrell, I presume.”
“Yeah?”
“Lieutenant Lowry, NYPD. We have a warrant to search the premises.” He said, pulling a thick piece of paper out of the pocket of his coat, as an officer carried out his order.
“What the hell is going on?” An angry Olivia interjected, as two officers entered his cabin.
“Mr. Farrell, you’re under arrest for the murder of Laurel Jane Thomas.” Lowry’s words sent shockwaves down his spine. “Officer, read him his rights.”
“Arrest!?” James exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”
“I tried to explain to them, man.” Rick maintained. “They wouldn’t listen. They say they have evidence against you.”
“What kind of evidence?” James posed yet another question, but, just like before, Lowry would not dignify it with an answer. He even glared at him.
“He’s clean, sir.” The young officer told his superior.
“Cuff him.” Lowry commanded.
“Hey!” James cried, putting his hands down. “Can somebody tell me just what in the hell is going on here?”
“You know very well, Mr. Farrell.” Lowry attempted a stiff tone. “What’s your name, ma’am?” He asked, turning his attention to Olivia.
“Olivia Ralston.” She mumbled. “Why are you arresting him?”
“Ms. Ralston, you need to come with us,” Lowry continued. “You need to provide a statement.”
Olivia kept her mouth shut and only glanced at James. He was so baffled that he could not force another word out of his throat. But, even if he did want to speak, there were so many officers around him, they would never allow it. They dragged him along the pathway, as he tried to wrap his head around what had just transpired.
“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” he thought to himself, as they led him to the police car; “a huge misunderstanding.”
11
Much to James’ astonishment, he wasn’t handcuffed to the iron bar on the table in front of him. A middle-aged, stocky police officer walked in the steel, heavy door of the interrogation room, with a large folder in his hands and a sullen look in his eyes. He eased the folder down on the small table. Tension tightened the back of James’s neck, as the seasoned officer sat across from him.
“Mr. Farrell: I’m Captain Jerry Biden.” He spoke in a gravelly voice, while opening the folder. “I trust you know who this is,” he continued as he picked up a stack of pictures and handed them over. What James saw disgusted him: Laurel Thomas was lying across the floor, with her eyes closed and a bullet hole in her forehead. James squeezed his own eyes shut and shook his head sideways twice, disbelief written across his face.
“Well?” Biden insisted.
“I’ve heard her sing.” James sighed. “I’ve seen her picture in the paper. I didn’t know her. I was told you had evidence against me.”
“Your fingerprints are on the murder weapon.” Biden stated. “They’re all over her house, too.”
“How’s that even possible?” James barely got out as his throat closed up and his body jolted upright. In contrast, the police officer maintained his composure; he did not even flinch. “I don’t even know where she lived, for God’s sake!”
“Sit down, Mr. Farrell.” Biden used a calm, steady tone. James obliged. “The victim lived in Brooklyn. This is just one of the reasons I believe you were framed.”
“I’m listening.” James spoke in a more normal tone while running his hand through his hair.
“The coroner placed the time of death as being two to three hours before she was discovered.” Biden announced. “We found her body at 9:45pm. We talked to the record company people. They said you left just after 7:30. Now, unless you can drive from Manhattan to Brooklyn and back within fifteen minutes, you can’t have done it.”
Relief flashed in James’ eyes, upon hearing Biden’s conclusion. He leaned back in his seat, still staring at the picture.
“There are other things, too.” The Captain suggested. “First of all, I’ve been doing this job for twenty six years. I’ve never seen anyone dumb enough to leave a murder weapon with his fingerprints on it at the crime scene. Plus, this looks like a professional hit. It wasn’t personal. And you?” He snorted. “You just don’t strike me as the killer type. I have to warn you, though. Someone went through a lot of trouble to make sure you were accused of this crime. Do you have any idea who that might be?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” James shrugged, his skin breaking out into a cold sweat, as the realization gripped him. “I don’t have any enemies.”
“In your line of work?” Biden wondered, slightly leaning in towards him. “I know quite a few people who’d kill to get a well-paid job like yours, Mr. Farrell.”
“Wait a minute.” James narrowed his eyes. “You know what I do?”
“As a matter of fact I do.” Biden nodded. “At first, the record company guys wouldn’t tell me. I had to push them a little. You’ve written some excellent stuff, Mr. Farrell. I don’t understand why you’d want to use a nickname, but who am I to judge? Now, can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you in any way? How many people know about your job?”
“Very few, actually,” James said. “My folks, Darryl’s…”
“Who’s Darryl?” Biden interrupted. It was a question James had been dreading. In a split second, the image of his friend’s horrific crash returned to his mind, making his heart sink.
“He was my best friend.” James explained, averting his gaze from him. “He died a long time ago. Damn…” a whisper of despair escaped him, as he dropped his face into his hands.
“What is it?” Biden sounded intrigued.
“Darryl was killed in a motorcycle accident. He was chasing me. They never found out about that.” James continued.
“That’s impossible.” Biden disagreed: “Unless you fled the scene. Did you?”
“No.” James whispered. “I was there; I called the police myself. I even testified.”
“Then they know everything.” Biden concluded. “You think they tried to frame you?”
“Well…” James sucked in a deep breath. “Now I don’t.”
“What about the girl?” Biden asked.
“Diana’s parents were killed in a plane crash, two months before her accident.” James replied.
“Mr. Farrell.” Biden started. “I want you to think about anyone who could possibly know what you do. Write those names down and go over them one by one. Because, rest assured: Someone’s trying to destroy you.”
“I really can’t think of anyone else.” Frustration was lingering in James’ voice.
“Take your time.” Biden urged. “When you come up with a name, give me a call. You’re free to go.”
If it hadn’t been for the police officer’s terrifying conclusion, James would have been ecstatic. Nevertheless, he could not even smile. He lazily got up and headed towards the door with a heavy heart, at the same time wondering why someone was trying to put him behind bars.
“This can’t be happening. I’ve never hurt anybody. Who’d want to hurt me? Why? The only people who know about this are my folks, Darryl’s, Rick and Olivia. It must be the company execs. One of them must have told someone. Nonsense, James. Why would that someone want to see you in jail? God, I’m going crazy here…”
12
By the time he was released, James was so emotionally drained that a possible drive through the noisy city did not sound at all appealing. He found Olivia in the police station lobby, relieved that he was cleared of all charges. In spite of her obvious fatigue, she agreed to drive back to his cabin. Predictably though, the news of someone trying to frame him did not go down well with her.
James had an extra reason to be troubled: if Captain Biden was correct, Darryl’s parents knew about his involvement in their son’s accident; yet, for some reas
on, they had not said anything to him. They had not blamed him for their son’s death and had even assisted him in signing a contract with a prestigious record company.
“If I was in his father’s shoes, I’d want his friend’s head on a spike. It wouldn’t matter how close my son and he were. He could have helped my boy a million times, but, if he was responsible for his death, the least I’d do was try to put him behind bars. Their behavior doesn’t make any sense. But still, something just doesn’t add up. Darryl was killed nine years ago. Why would they wait all this time to try anything like this?”
Olivia’s terrible mood changed, when she turned her car left, onto the uphill road that led to his retreat and for good reason: The first red, orange and pink colors of the sunset were in the clear, blue sky. A bright smile formed on her glorious face.
“Normally, I’d want to watch the sunset…” She claimed, turning to him, as her small, red Toyota rolled to a gentle halt. “But we’ve both had a long, hard day. I think what we both need is a hot cup of tea. What about you?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to you.” He spoke in a mild tone. “You don’t get to see that a lot.”
“God…” Olivia snorted in amusement, leaning over him. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“What makes you say that?” James asked.
“I’ll tell you what. Start a fireplace fire and I’ll make us some tea.” She suggested.
“Deal,” he smiled. With her silvery voice ringing in his ears, he picked up a pile of wood from his shed and brought it inside, as she hummed Adele’s “Send my love (to your lover). James was familiar with that song; he actually like it. It was a lot more cheerful than the ones he had written, and full of sarcasm. The one thing he could not understand, however, was Olivia’s high spirits. She had driven more than two hundred miles: she had spent an hour talking to the police and yet; she would not stop smiling.
James poured some oil on the wood and then seated himself down on the hardwood floor, wrapping his left arm around his knee. He lit a match and threw it into the fireplace.
“It looks like nothing can dampen your spirits.” He remarked in disgruntled tones, as the fire roared to life.
“That’s not true.” She rejected that notion, joining him by the fireplace. “Ok, today didn’t go as planned, but we’re here, aren’t we?”
“I just told you that someone wants to…”
“I know.” Olivia interjected. “I don’t like it. But I won’t let it ruin our night.”
Believing that she didn’t understand him, James remained silent. He tightened his lips, turning his attention to the fire.
“You and I are so different.” She said in her calm, fruity voice, tucking her legs under her. “Ok, I get it; you’re in a tough situation. But, what are you going to do? Let it get to you? I wouldn’t do that. No, sir, I’d focus on the immediate.”
“What did you mean, back in the car?” James inquired, returning his gaze to her face.
“You’re too selfless, James.” She responded her tone a little lighter. “I mean, you’d just been through hell and you wanted to please me. You need to think about yourself from time to time. If I were you, I’d say something like: ‘Go watch that damn sunset by yourself. I need to go take a shower’.”
Unable to stop the fit of laughter that her last sentence brought on, James burst out giggling, burying his face between his knees.
“Good one.” He chuckled, sensing her soft palm on his fingers.
“Ok, quick question;” Olivia chirped. “How do you relax around here?”
“A swim in the pool usually does the trick.”
“You have a pool?” She opened her eyes wide in disbelief.
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “It’s in my basement.”
“Then follow me,” Olivia attempted a raspy tone. She jumped up, grabbed her bag and sprinted across his living room. Amused, but also excited with the idea of seeing her in a bikini, he would not let the opportunity pass him by. James was still in the corridor that led to his swimming pool, when he heard a big splash.
The sun had almost completely set. The small amount of light coming through the glass façade set the mood for a romantic night. As he sauntered into the room, the sight that greeted him sent his pulse racing. Olivia had only just emerged from the pool. Water was dripping down her face, chest, and arms. She had no swim suit on.
“What are you waiting for?” She wondered, pushing her hair back from her face, her voice echoing in the room. James pressed on a light switch on the wall. The four appliqués in the corners were lit. Olivia’s wet body shone in the dim light. Eager to take her in his arms again, he took off his clothes in a hurry. He stopped at the edge of the pool, as her gaze slid up his chiseled abs and his rock hard pecs.
“Wow…” Olivia silently mouthed at him. James got his arms and hands in position and bent at the waist, pointing his fingers toward the water. Tucking in his chin, he tilted forward into the pool. His large, heavy body made a huge splash. James emerged, inches away from her and pushed his hair back from his face. Olivia had a cunning smile on her face, as she took a short step towards him. She was about to speak, but he raised his arm and put his fingers over her mouth.
“Let me do the all the talking; and please, don’t interrupt me,” James requested, his voice raspy with the need for action. She nodded her assent. “When I met you, I thought you’d just distract me. It wasn’t personal; that’s just the way I felt about all women. Maybe you will; but really, I’d love it if you did. You’re unpredictable, funny, supportive, loving … you’re like an oasis in the desert of my heart, Olivia.”
“Kiss me,” she said in a loving whisper, as he removed his hand from her mouth. James entwined his long arms around her back and pulled her close, tilting his head down to meet her lips. Olivia circled her own arms around his neck, as their lips joined in a long, tender kiss. With her warm, wet body in his embrace, he caressed her back, as she pressed herself into him. A simple, upward push was enough to lift her off her feet. Her playful gasp made his heart flutter, as she tightened her hold. Olivia wrapped her legs around his waist, as he glided his hands up and down her body.
“God, these lips…” She whispered in his mouth, as their kiss deepened, her husky voice sending shivers down his spine. Feeling her breasts pressing against his chest, he slid his hands down her back, as she slipped her hand into his hair. James grabbed and held on to her big, juicy ass, forcing a long, pleasurable moan out of her, as she ran her fingers through his hair.
“Yeah, baby…” She whimpered, tilting her head back, as he filled his palms with the delectable flesh of her butt cheeks. He squeezed them hard, laying a soft kiss on her chin, as she grabbed a fistful of his hair. Nipping his way down the tender skin of her neck, he massaged her ass, as she firmed her grip on him, her hot sighs turning him on even more. James’ lips stopped at her breasts. Without much thought, he took her right one into his mouth, gliding his middle finger over her pussy and her butt crack. A manly groan escaped him, as the flesh of her ample breast filled his mouth. The tip of his hot, moist tongue circled her swollen nipple, as his finger moved down her body. James used his index finger to spread the wet folds of her womanhood, eager to sense her moisture. Just as he did though, he moved his fingers down her pussy.
“Oh, you little tease.” Olivia moaned, squeezing her eyes shut, as James’ middle finger found her clit. James flicked his tongue over her nipple. A gentle bite forced a loud moan out of her, as he began to rub her clit. Still, as much as they were both enjoying this, he knew that he could do much more. So, tightening his grip, he walked towards the closest edge of the pool. He planted one last kiss on her breast and pulled back, before lifting her up over the edge of the pool, then easing her down onto the floor. Olivia opened her eyes and gazed down into his, seductively opening her legs. What she did next blew his mind and made his balls tingle with anticipation: She put her hands on her breasts, squeezed them first and pressed them togeth
er, licking her upper lip.
“So hot…” James said, his voice a barely audible, raspy whisper, as he slid his gaze down her body. Her dripping wet pussy beckoned to be touched; yet, he would not do that just yet. Instead, he fixed his gaze on her right inner thigh. Shutting his eyes, he bent his head down towards her thigh, slipping his right hand up her other leg. Olivia smiled, before removing her hands from her body. She leaned back against her arms, surrendering to him, as his lips closed around her flesh. Kissing his way up her inner thigh, James stroked her upper outer thigh, her husky whimpers audible over the slurping sound of his kisses. The sweet scent of her juices became stronger and stronger by the second. His mouth reached the crook between her inner thigh and her pussy. Grabbing her by the hips, he pulled her closer. Not wasting any more time, he stuck his tongue out.
“Awwwww, baby!” Olivia moaned, biting her lower lip, as he slowly slid his tongue up her soaking wet pussy, tasting her ample, thick juices. He stopped it at her clit, as she reached her right arm towards him. James began to lick her erogenous zone in a circular motion, sensing her hand knitting into his hair. He could feel her wetness on his chin. Pulling her clit into his mouth, he let go of her left hip and led his hand to her entrance. The tip of his middle finger teased in, as he flicked his tongue across her hard, swollen clit. But James wanted to stimulate her even further and a simple tease would not suffice. Therefore, he slowly pushed his middle finger deep inside her, nibbling on her clit at the same time.
“That’s it!” Her loud groan encouraged him, as she pressed his head against her crotch. Olivia’s juices flowed down his finger, as James licked her clit faster. His tongue darted relentlessly against her erogenous zone, as his penetration sent her one step closer to heaven. She was writhing beneath him, her moans much louder than his grunts, her pussy muscles flexing out of control as he worshipped her. Understanding she was close, James used his index finger to penetrate her as well and even quickened his pace, savoring the taste of her pussy juices as they flowed down his fingers and were licked up by his tongue.
Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection Page 82