Obsessed by Darkness

by Autumn Jordon

  He covered his back. And could guard her.

  “No. Not at all.” A mixture of both pleasure and uneasiness made her first few words quake and sound pitchy. She inhaled, regained her poise, and replied, “That way I don’t have to face anyone either, so it works for both of us.”

  As she settled against the cushion, she wondered again about what line of work Chase had done in the Army. Security detail, maybe?

  After the waitress introduced herself, delivered the menus and took their drink orders, Chase placed his elbows on the table and spoke over his cupped hands. “You were very quiet during our ride here, and just now it seemed you were somewhere else.” He jutted his strong chin toward the entrance. “Do you want to talk about what you’re thinking?”

  She couldn’t tell him she’d been thinking about an earlier date or lack of dates just because he’d simply touched her. Nor would she reveal he intrigued her on so many levels. What she would tell him…

  “Thank you for waiting for me while I spoke to the detectives. I felt better, knowing you were there, in case—”

  “In case what?”

  The table’s edge pressed into her ribs as she leaned forward. She spoke in a hushed tone so those seated at the closest tables wouldn’t hear her response. “In case they decided to arrest me. At least someone would know where I’d disappeared to.”

  Chase chuckled. “They weren’t going to arrest you.”

  “I’m not too sure that wasn’t their intention.” Thinking about the detectives’ lack of logic, Emma felt her blood come to a full boil. She took her fury out on her paper napkin, snapping it open and pressing it on her lap. “How could they possibly think I’d have anything to do with Denise’s death?”

  “I’m sure they’re looking at everyone who had contact with Denise and are eliminating suspects as they can.”

  “Don’t defend them,” Emma said, her tone escalating an octave.

  A couple gawked in their direction. Their forks midway to their mouths.

  Emma shifted slightly on her seat and smoothed her hand over her hair, pulling it forward over her shoulder. Frustration made her bite down on her lip, to the point she winced.

  “Ok.” Chase’s broad shoulders lifted and fell in a way that showed his lack of concern. “They’re assholes. Excuse my language. Assholes who are lazy and trying to close the case as soon as possible.” His brows arched, as if questioning whether that scenario provided any better insight.

  Staring at his completely calm expression, Emma couldn’t hold back her laughter. The tension in her neck muscles released a bit more with each hiccup.

  This time she ignored the stares they received from the other patrons. “You’re right. I know you’re right. Their thinking is flawed, even ludicrous.”

  “Of course it is.”

  He sounded so certain. She tilted her head to the side and studied him with candid interest. “You don’t know me. How can you be so sure I’m telling the truth?”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes, but how can you know?”

  “I have this sixth sense. I read people pretty damn well.”

  “How?”

  It was his turn to lean forward over the table. An unreadable, placid expression held every muscle of his face in check. “I study their faces and simply read them.”

  Conquered by blue eyes that reminded her of an August sky, Emma felt herself wanting to open up more to him, even though she highly doubted he had the skill he professed. “You know I didn’t harm Denise by looking at me?”

  While she fought to mimic his placid demeanor and keep her gaze free of any signs of delight, she noted Chase’s Adam’s apple dip below the collar of his shirt a micro-second before he broke the connection between them.

  If she captured Chase’s wrist and felt his pulse, would it mimic her own accelerated beat?

  “Yes,” he said. “And that you’re very hungry.”

  Dipping her head slightly, Emma’s smile broke free. She didn’t know what to make of Chase, which prodded her scientific side’s interest. One minute he looked at her intensely, like he tried to discover something she’d hidden well inside of her. That made her uncomfortable because like everyone else, she had her share of secrets. And other times, like now, his eyes twinkled with amusement which made her insides tremble with excitement.

  She liked that type of gaze better.

  “I am hungry, but I have a feeling my rumbling stomach gave me away.”

  “I do have good hearing.” Chase settled back on the cushion and gave the young waitress who approached their table, a warm smile. She balanced a tray which held their drinks. “Just in time,” Chase said.

  “Did you have a chance to look at the menu?” The teenager’s eyes darted between them and then settled on Chase.

  Jealousy needled Emma as the girl moistened her lips. The teen was several younger than her. Very young. Very naïve. She had no clue how quickly life could change one’s outlook, especially when you became tangled in an event you’d never thought you’d be a part of.

  “Do you know what you want, Emma?” Chase squinted at her.

  “Yes.” She emptied her mind of all the horrible, vivid memories of the last few days and ordered her usual: a grilled chicken breast and walnut salad with raspberry dressing on the side. Chase went with home fries, eggs and scrapple.

  “Scapple? Emma wrinkled her nose.

  “You ever try it?”

  “No, and I don’t want to.”

  “You should. You’d like it.”

  After the waitress collected their menus and headed toward the kitchen, Chase asked, “So what else did the officers ask you?”

  And her worries were back. Mindlessly, she aligned her silverware and swallowed the bitter taste lacing her tongue. “Someone told them they’d witnessed me and Denise arguing.”

  “Did you argue?” He looked over his coffee.

  “No. Not really.”

  “What do you mean, not really? Either you did or you didn’t.”

  “Whoever these people are saw me and Denise as we left class. We were discussing Max Trautz’s 1916 collision theory versus William Lewis’ 1918 theory which qualitatively explains how chemical reactions occur and how reaction rates differ for different reasons, especially when there is the addition of a catalyst. That’s all.” She shrugged.

  Silently, Chase pinched his lips for a few seconds, looking very serious. Then his taut mouth lifted into a smile. “I guess there’s a definite possibility that from a distance a discussion about “collision” could look like an argument.”

  Emma blushed at her display of gestures and emotion concerning her passion. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make your eyes glaze over. I have this habit of over-explaining things in less than layman’s terms when it comes to my work.”

  “No problem. I’m sure I could make you yawn talking about the breakdown and operation of motorcycles, cars or…”

  “Or what?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head and scanned the dining room.

  Emma had a feeling the nothing he referred to would provide a major insight into who he really was. That he controlled that.

  She followed Chase’s lead and picked up her drink and took a few sips before confessing the remainder of the officers’ questions. “They also found my fingerprints on Denise’s handbag, which they found somewhere. They didn’t disclose where.”

  “Oh?” Chase’s cup thumped onto the table. His long, light lashes nearly touched his eyebrows as his eyes widened. “How did that happen?”

  “Again, easily explained. Denise had forgotten it by her chair when she left study group last Thursday. I found it and returned it to her. She hadn’t even reached the door.”

  “I can see that happening. My sister always leaves either her bag or her phone or her keys behind.” An amused chuckle escaped his full lips.

  So he had a sister. She was probably beautiful. If Chase was evidence of their parents’ gene pool, his sister had to be gor
geous.

  “And your car. Why are they looking at it?”

  She exhaled her frustration. “I have no idea, but I have nothing to hide.”

  “You’re biting your lip. Why are you worried?”

  “I’m not. It’s just unsettling.”

  “I understand, but surely you realize everything you’ve told me seems really circumstantial. There has to be another reason they’re looking at you. Tell me about Denise.”

  “I really didn’t know her well.”

  “Tell me what you do know,” he responded. “How long did you know her?”

  “A little over a year. She was also in my study group last year.”

  “Was she an outgoing person?”

  “No. Well, more so this year than last.”

  “Why the change?”

  “Denise was on the chunky side last year. She started losing weight last spring and when she came back this fall, she looked like a different person. I’d say she lost sixty pounds.”

  “That’s a big loss in what…five months? Did she become an exercise nut?”

  “No. I don’t think so.” Emma shook her head as she traced the path of a drop of condensation down her glass.

  “How about drugs? Was she a user? I mean she had to be on something to take a dive off the bridge.”

  “They haven’t confirmed she died that way. Besides, she wouldn’t have committed suicide.”

  “Then someone flung her over. She didn’t fight back very hard.”

  “How do you know she didn’t?” Emma held her shiver in check by wrapping her arms around her waist as the image of Denise’s broken body crept into her mind’s eye again. She wasn’t so naïve to believe the campus remained a drug-free zone. She’d seen students she suspected used, but she hadn’t associated with them and she didn’t think Denise had either. She considered Denise too intelligent to get involved with drugs.

  It had never stuck Emma as a possibility before, but perhaps drug use could account for the woman’s vast weight loss.

  Remembering Denise’s smile, Emma replied, “Denise didn’t strike me as a user. One of them.”

  “One of them?”

  She’d spoken out loud. “I…”

  “So you know who the users are on campus?”

  “No. Not really. I’ve never seen anyone using, but I’ve heard things.”

  A dealer would know this. The hairs on the back of Chase’s neck prickled as Emma’s gaze darted to her lap and her tongue crossed her lips.

  “I’m sure you know there have been three student deaths in the last six weeks,” he said quietly, leaning toward her, watching for the tiniest reaction to his words. ”I’ve only been here a few days, and I heard about it the first day.”

  She nodded. When she raised her head and looked at him, Emma’s brown eyes glistened.

  Was it empathy that caused her to tear up, or remorse?

  He liked this woman, but he had a job to do and needed to press on. “I bet they’re all drug related. Maybe the officers think you have something to do with—”

  “That’s preposterous.” She cut him off and grabbed her napkin, wadding it into a ball. “I would never, and the fact that you think—”

  He reached across the table and snagged her wrist. The napkin fell to the table in front of her, instead of striking his face where she probably intended it to hit him. “I didn’t say I thought that. I said they.”

  The din of the restaurant filled the space between them as the heat in her eyes cooled. He let go of her wrist.

  “If we’re going to figure out why the detectives are focusing on you, we’ve got to think like them.”

  “What? Stupid? Narrow minded?”

  “You don’t mean that. You’re perturbed by the situation. Anyone would feel the same way. Hell, even I would.”

  “You’re right,” she admitted.

  “What if all of the deaths were drug related and connected?” Chase asked, as if he had no clue of the truth. “What could you possibility have to do with them?”

  “I don’t know.” Her brow furrowed as her gaze dropped to her lap, again.

  “You’re a chemistry major.”

  Her head snapped up. “So are a few hundred other students.”

  “True. But you’re special.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Yes. You. Are. And whatever makes you special is why they’re investigating you. You’re earning a PhD in chemistry, which means you have more knowledge of drugs than the majority of the students. You work part time for a pharmaceutical company. You’re also a teacher’s aide which means you have access to the lab and the supply room, especially the supply room. Right?”

  “You think someone is using the lab to produce drugs? Impossible.”

  Her look of surprise didn’t sway him. He remained focused. “Why do you think it’s impossible?”

  “Because the lab is locked down after hours. It’s monitored. There are security cameras in the halls. Also, a key and a code are required to get into the supply room. I’m sure only a handful of people know the code. And it’s changed every few weeks.”

  “Are you telling me, you never stayed after hours in the lab to work on a project?”

  “Yes. Of course I have, if I don’t have time throughout the day to work on my thesis, and only with Professor Lawson’s permission.”

  “And you don’t think others have done the same?”

  “Yes. It’s possible.”

  “Do you have access to the supply room?”

  “Yes. You know I do. As the professor’s teaching assistant, I have to retrieve supplies needed for class experiments.” Her eyes widened. “Oh my God. The detectives must think the drugs are being produced somewhere on campus. That is why they’re searching.” Her face paled as she stared directly into his eyes. “I’m not a drug dealer.”

  “I know you’re not.” His gut told him so, but the bag he’d seen… If she was innocent he’d need proof for his superiors.

  “Do you? You’re asking a lot of questions for someone who believes in me.”

  “I’m trying to help you by considering the obvious angles.” He told the truth and held her stare.

  “I’m not the only one who has access to the lab or the supply room. Why aren’t those people being investigated?”

  “Maybe they are and we don’t know about it.”

  “I suppose. I’m sure the professors wouldn’t discuss being interviewed with anyone—as a matter of protocol—but the other students who have as much access as me… Well I’m sure one of them would’ve brought the topic up if they knew the police have been talking to me and have also talked with them.”

  “The investigation is only in its second day. I’m sure the college needed time to get a list of names together. And you found Denise so that makes you special.”

  “Yes, and they spoke to me immediately. During the interview, I told them my major and that I had access to the lab. I admitted to being in the lab after hours.” She rubbed her temple. “What an idiot I’ve been. Thank you.”

  Her words caught him off guard and he blinked. “For what?”

  “For making me realize why they’re speaking to me.” She sighed. “Tomorrow they’ll probably start questioning others.”

  “Exactly. You’re welcome.” He swallowed a gulp of his coffee and then turned the conversation, hoping to learn more about her. “I hear you like to run, a lot.”

  “Really. Who told you?”

  “People.”

  “I see.” She sipped her soda again and then asked, “So, what else did these people tell you about me?”

  “That you’re very intelligent.”

  Her cheeks flushed as she rolled her eyes. “Well, I work hard.”

  “They said you’re driven.”

  She smiled and relaxed against the booth’s back. “My dad always said once I got an idea in my head, taking a ham hock away from a starvin’ dog would be easier than changing my mind.”

  “That’s i
nsight.” He rolled the straw paper between his fingers and then tossed it to the side. “So where are you from? West Virginia? Kentucky?”

  “Kentucky. How did you know? Did someone tell you that too?”

  “No. I’ve traveled the U.S. pretty much, and I pick up on dialects easily. One of my many talents,” he said, knowing he’d read it in her file.

  “So you have many talents?”

  “A few.”

  Emma wiped the table of the moisture ring left behind by her glass and laid the napkin aside. “What are some of your other talents?”

  “Figuring out mysteries.”

  “Books or movies?”

  “Any.”

  “Ah. I see.” She pressed her lips together.

  He tilted his head to the side and stared at her, wondering what she meant. “What do you see?”

  “The reason you’re here with me is because you’re searching for clues to solve the mystery of Denise’s case.” She snatched up her glass.

  Quickly, he reached across the table and brushed a finger across the back of her hand, stopping her from putting the straw to her lips. “I’ll admit I’m intrigued by the case, but it’s not the reason I’m here with you.”

  Emma kept her cool façade in place. Silently she stared at him, prompting him to continue.

  “I’m here because I like you and find you fascinating.”

  She almost snorted. “No one’s ever called me fascinating. Boring. Yes. Quiet. Yes. Even an introvert. But fascinating?” She cocked a brow, questioning him.

  “You are,” he said, smiling. “No lying. Here is a little fact about me. I don’t do easy. Never have. You definitely challenge me. I like that about you. And you’re beautiful.”

  Thump.

  Her heart tripped over itself. No one other than her grandmother and parents had ever called her beautiful. Pretty, yes. But beautiful? No.

  Her cheeks stung with prickly heat. “Thank you.”

  “Well, look who is here.”

  Emma’s gaze jumped to the man standing next to the booth. She’d been so distracted by the twinkle in Chase’s eyes she hadn’t seen Bart Logan approach their table. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I needed a coffee.” He held up the cardboard cup.

  “Weren’t you going to some event at the dean’s residence?” she asked.