Obsessed by Darkness

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Obsessed by Darkness Page 21

by Autumn Jordon


  “Then why all the questions?”

  He touched her coat sleeve. “I’m concerned about you.”

  Emma’s eyes widened as her gaze jumped from his fingertips to meet his eyes. “Me. Why?”

  Chase heard laughter behind them and glanced over his shoulder to see three students strolling toward them. Probably noting Chase’s concerned expression, the man’s laughter cut short.

  He couldn’t take the chance of their conversation being overheard. Chase latched onto Emma’s elbow and maneuvered her off the sidewalk and across the lawn. When they were out of anyone’s hearing range, he said, “I’d heard she took drugs. I know you’re not and—”

  Emma jerked her arm out of his grip, and it was her turn to shake her head. “Nanette? No. Where did you hear that?”

  The sun disappeared behind the pine trees at their backs and the chilly shadows concealing them crept forward on the cropped grass. The advancing darkness mimicked the direction of their conversation.

  “Around.”

  “Well, whoever said that about her is a liar.” Emma’s nostrils flared. “I’ve never seen her stoned. Drunk, yes, but stoned, no. There is a difference.”

  An unnerving prickle ran along his collar. Should he be happy that Emma knew the physical effects of someone using? He rubbed his neck, pressing on the spine where the tension stung the greatest. No matter the outcome, he had to push forward.

  “What? How would you know?” he asked.

  “Of course I don’t have firsthand knowledge but as a chemist whose career is drug research, I’ve been schooled in the effect drugs have on the body. One difference is the euphoria caused by drugs: It can last up to twenty hours whereas alcohol only provides a short time period of ecstasy. There are other differences. I’ve never seen Nanette exhibit any of them. Believe me, if she was using, we wouldn’t be roommates.”

  Anger pulled her pretty mouth into a straight line.

  He believed her.

  Chase’s gaze dropped and he scratched his chin while staring at broken brown pieces of vegetation at his feet. Because Nanette didn’t use, didn’t mean she couldn’t be involved with Mark and his business. What would her role be? Could she be a mule? A seller? A feeler?

  “Has she borrowed money from you?” he asked.

  “Sometimes, when she can’t make it to the bank and needs cash.”

  “Has she ever asked for a large amount?”

  “No. At the most, twenty dollars. Nanette doesn’t need money, if that is what you’re thinking. Her family is well off and she inherited a large sum from her grandfather’s estate. Enough to pay for her college, plus. So she has no debts like I do.”

  “Does she have access to the money?”

  “Yes. No. It’s held in a trust account in France. I believe her parents are trustees until she turns twenty-five. They send her money via her bank account every month. These are very personal questions. What’s this all about, Chase?”

  Emma eyes had turned sharp and suspicious.

  “Can’t you just trust me on this?” Chase asked.

  “Why should I trust you? I barely know you. I’ve known Nanette over a year. She’s probably my closest friend. I really don’t appreciate you accusing her of being a drug addict. Now if you will excuse me, I have places to be.” Emma pushed past him and quickly put distance between them.

  Inside the pocket of his hoodie, Chase’s hands clenched while he watched his best informant on Nanette march away.

  What upset him even more had nothing to do with the case…as he stood and watched the woman of his dreams disappear.

  He was a fuck up, if ever there was one.

  ***

  Emma mindlessly watched the dinner crowd trickle into The Lair and make their meal choices before finding seats at the surrounding tables. The din in the room imitated the racket ricocheting off Emma’s skull from inside. She couldn’t keep track of the number of emotions bombarding her heart.

  She clutched a sixteen-ounce French vanilla cappuccino in her hands and considered pressing the warm cardboard cup against her throbbing temples. However, that would be a sign she was looking for empathy and she didn’t want to be bothered by anyone. She wanted to be invisible in this crowd, alone with her thoughts.

  After leaving Chase, she’d taken a brisk walk to calm down, and eventually ended up there. Seated at a table, situated in the deepest corner, she set her drink down and stabbed at her taco salad but really only pushed the greens around. She had to eat before she headed back to the library for the Thursday night study group. Her grumbling stomach had been the reason she’d left in the first place. She’d skipped lunch, but her disagreement with Chase had ramped up her appetite. Though she was hungry, the bites she’d taken felt like lead balls in her stomach.

  What gave Chase the right to accuse Nanette of using drugs?

  Even if Nanette had used drugs, why would he think she was in danger?

  She retrieved a couple aspirin from her purse and pulled a bottled water from the side pocket of her knapsack. She swallowed the pills and gulped the water. Something else bothered her: Why hadn’t Nanette mentioned she’d met Chase? She’d had plenty of opportunity.

  And Nan knew how much Emma liked him. And the kiss. She’d told Nan all about the kiss.

  Her body ached to again feel the excitement that had coursed through her veins during that kiss. It’d been a long time since she felt so happy, but now…

  She yanked the zipper on her purse closed. She felt so foolish, acting like a love-sick school girl. How immature. How stupid of her.

  “Why the frown? You look like the world has beaten you and left you along a deserted highway.”

  The deep voice yanked Emma from the pool of selfpity. She hadn’t seen Officer Knepper approach the table.

  “Hi.”

  “I assumed you’d be dancin’ now that those detectives are off your tail and headed in the right direction.”

  “You heard?”

  “Yes.”

  “That was a nightmare.” She managed to smile as she pointed to the empty chair across from her, indicating he should take a seat. “And yes, I’m very happy they’ve moved on.”

  Knepper dropped onto the chair. The big man looked uncomfortable seated among a sea of students. “Then what has you down?”

  Emma dropped her gaze to her uneaten salad. She shrugged.

  “Just things. What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for someone.” He scanned the room before turning back to her. “I know you’ve been bombarded with questions, but I wonder if you wouldn’t mind a few from me.”

  “Does this have to do with Denise?”

  “Indirectly. Yes.”

  At least he was upfront with her. She liked his honesty. Emma slid her food to the side and propped her elbows on the table. “What’s a few more?”

  “Do you know Officer Packard?”

  She’d seen the guy around campus and had to say she really didn’t care for him. The last time she’d run into him was the day she'd found Denise. Tony Packard was the officer who had responded to her call. Come to think of it, he had responded especially fast. She had assumed he had been patrolling close by, but maybe he had been there because…

  Emma recalled the steely stare Tony had given her as she sat in the dean’s office waiting for the detectives. She had believed, until now, that Tony had already labeled her guilty, but maybe he was the one plagued with guilt. Her breath hitched, and it was as if a cold finger ran up her spine. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions but Mr. Knepper had said his questions had to do with Denise. Did he suspect Tony of having something to do with her death?

  She swallowed her angst. “Just to see him. I don’t know him. We’ve never spoken beyond a hello, except for that morning I found her. Why do you ask?”

  “What’s your opinion of him?”

  “I don’t know him well enough to form an opinion.” Maybe now wasn’t the best time to heed Mom’s warning about keeping your opini
ons to yourself when you didn’t have a kind word to say.

  “You’re a smart lady, Emma. You know people form impressions of others just by observing them, and I know you’re very observant.”

  He was right. Some people even judged others without ever meeting them.

  “Where have you usually seen Tony?”

  “Near the library. He usually parks his car under the grove of trees nearby.” She crossed her arms and leaned forward. The direction the conversation had taken stirred her curiosity. “He often patrols the parking lots. I’ve seen him several times as I got into my car. And he patrols on foot, around the courtyard near my dormitory.”

  “Have you ever seen him talking to anyone in particular, or on numerous occasions? Friendly like.”

  “Like Denise?”

  “Anyone.” His shoulders jerked forward instead of up with his shrug. A sure sign he carried stress.

  Emma lowered her eyes from his for a second and leaned back in her chair. She concentrated on the past for a few moments. “He talks to a lot of people. He seems very friendly,” she said looking up at the campus’s senior security officer again.

  “You don’t like him.”

  Mr. Knepper held her gaze. He hadn’t asked a question. He had stated a fact, one she couldn’t deny because her eyes had already given him the answer.

  “No. I don’t. I hate to say that because I try not to judge people until I know them, but there is something about the way he watches women. Like he’s undressing them. I have very little respect for patronizing men. I got the gene from my grandmother. You’d like her and she’d like you.”

  Knepper returned her small smile and then, as if a curtain drew closed, his expression turned serious again. “Did he ever approach you?”

  “No.”

  “How about your roommate? What’s her name? Nanette?”

  “Nanette Yves. No, for me. And Nanette’s never said anything about him, so I would say not. If he had harassed her, she definitely would’ve warned me to stay clear of him. Why?”

  “Someone said they witnessed him harassing a student and reported it to me.”

  Relieved a possible harassment charge was why Knepper asked questions about Tony instead of a possible connection to Denise’s death, Emma exhaled her tension through tight lips.

  “Ah. Shouldn’t you be talking to the student in question instead of me?”

  “I should, but I can’t find her and I saw you sitting here.” Knepper’s fingers curled into fists and he ran his knuckles back and forth along the table’s edge while he scanned the room. Then his gaze jumped back to Emma. He leaned toward her and said quietly, “The student in question is Nanette. Do you know where I might find her?”

  “Nanette?” Now Emma sat forward in her seat. She searched Knepper’s face, waiting for additional information, but he offered none. The man’s lips were sealed as he waited for her to answer his question. What had Nanette done to make everyone suddenly interested in her? “I haven’t spoken to her since this morning. She told me she was going out tonight. She didn’t say where or with whom.”

  “Can you have her call me?”

  Emma rubbed the twitch she felt in her right brow. Was Nan in some kind of trouble?

  Metal scraped the floor raw as she scooted her chair back. She stood and said, “I’ll give her the message. If you’ll excuse me I need to use the restroom.”

  She walked away, hoping Knepper would be gone by the time she returned. If not, she had a good excuse to leave. Her study group gathered in twenty minutes.

  ***

  Standing in the shadows, Chase’s jaw locked with frustration. Bart Logan left the campus for the evening, or at least that was what Chase assumed. He’d seen the guy help a pretty undergrad into his expensive, little foreign job. The beams from the headlights told him they’d turned left out of student parking lot B toward the college town, or the Interstate that ran close by. Chase had no way of tracking or following Logan; his car was parked on the other side of campus.

  He blew into his chilled hands before stuffing them into the pockets of his hoodie. Rain had not let loose from the starless sky yet, but the wind carried a mixture of the day’s warmth and the forthcoming cold and told of brewing thunderstorms. A flash of lightening crossed the sky to the east. Was it a prelude to the evening’s events?

  For the third time that day, his cell vibrated against his hip. Jolene again.

  “What’s up?”

  “Chase.” She sounded frazzled and out of breath.

  Immediately he feared for her safety. “What’s wrong?”

  “Mark Varklet has been abducted.”

  “When?”

  “A few minutes ago.”

  “What the fuck?” He blinked at her out-of-the-blue announcement.

  “I saw him. Them. He was walking back to his apartment and this van pulled up alongside him. Two goons the size of linebackers jumped out of the back and grabbed him. He didn’t stand a chance. It was like he was there one second and gone the next. That is how fast it went down. If I hadn’t been tailing him, and paying close attention, I probably wouldn’t have seen a thing.” She talked as fast as an auctioneer. “They were professionals. They had to be.” She gulped a breath. “I called Will immediately. He’s putting out an APB on the van.”

  Every muscle urged him to run. “Where are you?”

  “I’m on the corner of First and Elm, waiting on the police.”

  Bart and Mark’s room was located a few blocks west of where he now stood. He took off at a jog. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “No. You’d better not. The local cops will be interviewing me. Flashing lights are going to draw attention and who knows who might be watching.”

  Chase slid to a halt under a street lamp. Jolene was right. Placing both of them in the same location on campus could blow their cover.

  “Right.” He walked in circles, chewing his bottom lip as he pondered their situation. His adrenaline-laced nerves zinged with excitement. “Something broke for us this morning, Jo. I know it. I saw Bart leaving campus, apparently on a date. That accounts for his whereabouts. And you say Mark was abducted.” He counted off points on his fingers with his free hand. Abducted by whom—and why—was the new mystery. He had no doubt Mark’s abduction had something to do with their case.

  “Knepper is keeping an eye on Packard,” he said. “Where they are right now, I don’t know. I’m sure Knepper will touch base with me soon, especially now this emergency has arisen. That leaves the question, where’s Nanette?”

  “And who is she with?”

  “Right.”

  “Do you think she might’ve contacted Emma this afternoon?”

  He could hear sirens through the phone and off in the distance. Jolene ran out of time.

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” Chase said. “Contact me later, or have Will call me with any updates.”

  “Will do,” Jolene responded.

  With that, their connection broke. He knew the local police would have no problem believing Jolene was a student. She fit in so well. The woman could act. Every one of the C.U.F.F. team members could. Their lives, and the lives of other, depended on that ability.

  Chase clutched his phone in a tight fist while he stalked toward the library. After his conversation with Emma this afternoon, he couldn’t just ask her more questions about Nanette. Somehow he had to gain her confidence again. How the hell could he do that?

  ***

  Emma exited the library and lifted her face to the chilly breeze that rattled the metal sign affixed outside the door, announcing the upcoming art exhibit. All day long, the sky and winds had promised a storm and she had no doubt in the next two hours the low clouds, tinted an eerie pinkish color by the college’s street lamps, would open up and drop buckets of fresh, cold water to the ground.

  Wasting no time, she wrapped her scarf around her neck and jogged down the library steps and headed toward the parking lot and her car. The area still buzzed with
students, but no one stood around chatting. They all walked briskly to their destinations, including her.

  Her goal was to get to her car and head home to sink into a warm tub. Maybe she’d even have a glass of wine. Today had been one of those long, roller-coaster kind of days. The kind she normally handled with more confidence and drive, but her zeal had drained away hours ago and her certainty in almost everything she deemed normal was shaken.

  Her exchange with Chase jumped to the forefront of her mind, causing her jaw to lock with disbelief. Still furious with him, she felt slightly betrayed by his lack of belief in her roommate’s character. Thank goodness Professor Langson would be back teaching the next day. She wouldn’t have to face Chase in class.

  Her windshield reflected the bright LED light above it. Out of habit, she’d parked near a light for safety reasons. Ten other vehicles dotted the deserted lot. Their owners were probably not far behind since it was almost nine o’clock and most evening classes would end soon.

  Emma unlocked her car and tossed her bag onto the passenger seat. A turn of her key, and the silence that followed, indicated she was not going anywhere. She sighed and laid her head against the steering wheel. Maybe the unresponsive ignition was a fluke. She’d wait a minute and then try again.

  A tap at the driver’s window made her jump back on her seat. She covered her heart as if she needed to stop it from escaping her chest. Three wild beats later, she inhaled deeply through her nose to calm her jolted nerves and then hunkered down a little and peered out the window. The hoodie, stretched across a broad chest, looked familiar. Chase.

  Beneath her palm her heart betrayed her and did a flip. Instead of greeting him, she clenched her jaw and tried to start the car again. She’d longed to peel out and leave him watching her tail lights.

  Nothing. Silence. Only the jangle of her keys as she let go of them—and the foolish dance in her chest.

  Her car was dead.

  Emma growled a low, distressing moan. She was exasperated with the car, yes, but more so with herself. She never ran away from a challenge, but since meeting Chase two days ago, he had caused her to re-examine herself and her life, on so many levels.

 

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