Secure in the knowledge that David was away and therefore not a threat, she left her body and headed for the UNI. The University was—not surprisingly—empty. Classes had been cancelled in respect for the victims and the only people that Meaghan could see wandering around the perimeter were the security guards. Damn. Not again! This time she spotted David before he noticed her and was able to hide behind a cluster of industrial garbage bins. His presence prevented her from moving freely around the campus. Another wasted night.
When he moved on, she returned to her body feeling irritated. His constant presence at the campus reinforced her suspicious that he was somehow involved in the murders. If he wasn’t, his clients must be some pretty nasty characters. What are you up to, David Corel? She couldn’t think when he was around. Well, she did actually do a lot of thinking … thinking about what the next lesson would involve, what it would be like to make love with him, did they have a future together? Meaghan shook her head and sat forward in her seat, reprimanding herself for not seeing the big picture. Instead of fantasizing about love-making, she should be thinking about the case and trying to predict who would be next. If you don’t start concentrating on the job, she warned herself, the next victim could be you.
****
After twice doing the rounds of the campus, David pulled out his mobile phone and called his brother who asked, “Any suspicious characters out tonight?”
“Not a one,” David informed him as he walked back to his car. “Except…”
“Except what?”
“I’m sure Meaghan was here. I didn’t spot her this time but I felt her presence again.”
“Sorry, David, but that isn’t possible.”
“How can you be so sure? She could have caught a cab.”
“Anna and I were bored so we started watching the closed circuit television.” Derrick informed him, “Meagan has been sleeping quietly on the couch since you left. She has only just woken up in the last couple of minutes.”
A sense of relief washed over him although he couldn’t shake the feeling that she had been close enough to touch. Could his desire for her be so intense that he imagined her presence?
“David? Are you still there?”
“What? Oh, sorry. I was lost in thought. I’m heading home now.”
David heard another voice in the background. “Wait. Can you hold the line?”
When Derrick returned he had instructions. “Anna just had a vision. She wants you to go back onto the campus and head to the science labs. She said she only caught a flash of a vision but it involved one of the security guards. Go now!”
David flipped his phone shut as he ran. His preternatural speed got him to the science lab in a matter of seconds but it was already too late. As he followed the smell of blood to the lab, he was stopped in his tracks by a security guard who instantly pulled his weapon and pointed it at David’s chest. The guard shook violently. The gun unsteady in his hand as he ordered David to “Freeze!”
“Put the gun away,” David commanded the nervous guard as he stared deep into the man’s eyes.
“I said freeze, arsehole,” the guard repeated, obviously impervious to the compulsion. David’s brow furrowed in disbelief. His method of persuasion was usually effective, especially on a lone individual. Unless he possessed psychic powers or … aha. A pair of broken glasses lay in a smeared puddle of blood near the body. This victim was one of the guards, probably the nervous guy’s partner. Blood soaked the back of his shirt and pants. He’d probably slipped in the pool of blood as he ran to help his partner. David stepped toward the terrified man, his hands up in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Is that what you said to my partner?” the man argued, his voice quavering. “I’ve already called the cops. They’re on their way, so you just stay right where you are.”
“Calm down. I’m not the murderer and I’m not going to hurt you.”
David hoped to pacify the man who was sweating profusely and turning ashen in color. He concentrated on the guard’s pulse and picked up on the arrhythmia, recognizing the signs of an impending heart attack. When the man suddenly clutched at his chest, his suspicions were proven correct. There was no time to waste. The man needed urgent medical attention but he knew that any sudden movement would cause the man’s heart to skip a beat, possibly throwing his sinus rhythm out and his movements were usually anything but slow.
David read the name tag pinned to the guards left shirt pocket and tried to connect with him on a more personal level. “Christopher. You’re having a heart attack. I think we should get you to a seat and call for an ambulance.”
“Oh, you think that do you?” Chris Glass mumbled. He hunched over, holding his hand to his chest, gasping for air as another pain tore through him. “Aaah.”
As Christopher began to fall forward, David knew he could not waste any more time. He lunged, trying to catch the guard before he face-planted onto the tiled floor.
The guard misinterpreted his actions and fired his gun. He kept firing until he ran out of bullets. Then, he lost consciousness.
David felt the sting as the bullet entered his chest followed by the second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth shot. He fell back onto a wooden table which fragmented under his weight, a large section of the wood spearing right through his back and into his chest, narrowly missing his heart. Tempting as it was to try and escape before the authorities arrived, he was trapped, impaled by the largest remaining piece of table. He couldn’t risk pulling the stake through as it appeared to be larger at the base and would more than likely rupture his heart on the way through. He couldn’t reach back to pull it out as it was longer than his arms. There was no time to call Derrick for help, especially as he could hear the sound of heavy boots signaling that the police were running down the corridor. Trapped. There was no way he had the strength to compel all the cops at once and no way of escape. How would he be able to explain how he had survived not only six bullets to his body but also a wooden stake through his chest? There were no other options. It was time to play dead.
Chapter Thirteen
David heard the door of the autopsy drawer open and felt his body being slid out under the harsh light of the mortuary viewing room. He kept his eyes closed as the zipper of the body bag slid down to reveal his cold, lifeless body and heard Derrick tell the medical examiner, “I’d like to have a moment alone with my brother.”
“Certainly, Mr Corel. I’ll give you as long as you need. And please accept my sincere condolences.” His footsteps faded away and the door clicked as he closed it behind him.
“How on earth did you get yourself into this mess?” Derrick asked him.
David used their psychic connection to ask, Are we alone? He waited until his brother gave him the “all clear” before sitting up. “This has been one hell of a night.” He looked down at his bullet ridden and perforated body and shook his head in disbelief. “I could use a drink.”
“You and me both.”
So, what do we do now?”
“It seems we have two choices…” Derrick informed him. “We could perform a scene from Frankenstein and I could scream out he’s alive…”
David frowned his annoyance. “Next option.”
“Actually, that was my only idea. You’ve certainly stuffed up this time, David.”
“I hardly think this is my fault. You’re the one who ordered me to hurry to the lab. Anna’s premonition might have been a bit more specific and warned me that I was rushing to my doom.”
“Don’t bring this up with Anna,” Derrick pulled up a very uncomfortable looking metal chair and dropped into it. “She feels bad enough without you rubbing it in. Her visions are all over the place lately and the only answer we can come up with is a blocking spell.”
A phone rang in the adjoining office and the brothers realized that they were running out of time to develop a strategy. David suggested, “I guess we could use this to our advantage. If the police believe that I was the killer
and that they’ve taken me out of the equation, it gives me the opportunity to do a bit of poking around without having to deal with that bloody nuisance Palmer.”
“Okay, that sounds like a plan, but what about your little protégé? How are going to explain your death to her?”
David lay back on his metal tray and shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll figure that out while you work on getting me the hell out of here.
****
Meaghan caught a taxi to the police station and hurried to Terry Palmer’s office. He had told her on the phone to get there ASAP but had not elaborated on the reason. She suspected that she might be about to be admonished for the very public kiss that David gave her at the murder scene. She braced herself for a severe reprimand but that would have been preferable to the news he relayed. What he told her was a complete shock, one from which she thought she might never recover.
“What do you mean he’s dead?” She leaned back against the wall for support fearing her legs may give way.
“I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up.” Terry caught her as her knees buckled and helped maneuver onto the chair. “You knew he might be the killer.”
Meaghan looked up into Terry’s eyes; her own filled with tears as she tried to find the words to tell him what she was feeling. She shook her head subconsciously, deciding that confessing her love for David would only complicate the case. It was better that she kept her emotions tucked down deep. After a lifetime of keeping her emotions, longings and dreams to herself, it should be easy. She took a deep breath, hoping that the action would steady her voice as she asked, “How did it happen?”
“We got a call from campus security saying that there was a man down in the science lab and when we arrived, we found the dead security guard and Corel shot and get this … apparently staked. A funny co-incidence considering our last conversation.” He snorted at his own vampire reference and Meaghan blood boiled. How dare he joke about David’s death?
“I don’t find that remark remotely funny.”
“Actually, I think it is, or would be if his death didn’t implicate him to the murders.” The curve of Terry’s mouth turned slowly downward until his lips formed a straight thin line. His eyebrows too, turned downward into a frown and even his tone changed when he retaliated.
“Where were you when all of this was going down? You were supposed to be tailing him.”
Meaghan held up her wrist. Her plaster cast revealing what she had yet to inform him.
“I had a bit of an accident the other night.”
“Did Corel do this to you?” his face twisted in anger. He slammed his fist onto the desk. “If that bastard wasn’t dead, I’d kill him myself.”
Meaghan shook her head. “It was a misunderstanding. We had a bit of an argument after the murder outside my art room. He saw blood on my dress and accused me of being connected to the murders. I was worried that I might inadvertently disclose my identity so I tried to leave but he grabbed my wrist…” Meaghan paused, remembering how upset David had been after discovering how seriously hurt she was. He’d fed and bathed her. She felt totally safe in his arms. Gone. She would never feel his touch again.
“Probably trying to deflect suspicion from himself…” Terry suspected out loud. “I should never have assigned you to this case. For God’s sake, Megs, you can’t even stand the sight of blood, which makes your involvement in a murder case bloody ridiculous, excuse the pun. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have allowed you to talk me into this. I was concerned that you were too inexperienced to handle this assignment. Judging by your wrist and your piss weak explanation, I guess I was right.”
“That’s not fair!” I was doing a great job. “He had a very strong grip and I was pulling hard to escape.”
“Escape?”
“Don’t twist my words Terry. You know what I meant. I was trying to avoid having to answer questions that might blow my cover. He is … was, built like a freakin’ bodybuilder. Any one of your agents would have been hurt, and as for my problem with blood … you know very well why it affects me the way it does. I think you’re mean to throw it in my face.”
“Okay, I guess you have a legit excuse but it still poses a problem, especially if you work homicide. But Corel is a different matter. Not all my agents would have become emotionally attached to the suspect.”
Terry’s words were like a slap to her face. The sting more painful because—deep down—she knew it was true. She had been falling in love with David Corel. An unforgivable mistake for an undercover agent. Taking another deep breath, she looked into her boss’s eyes and asked, “What happens now?”
“Now you take a couple of weeks off on compo.”
“What? No! I can’t believe you’re taking me off the case?”
“The case is closed. The killer is dead.”
“I’m sorry to disagree with you, Terry but I’m still not sure David was the killer.”
“David?” Terry laughed, but his stony stare warned her that he was deadly serious and his tone sounded cynical when he added. “Yeah, I guess you would be on a first name basis with your fiancé.”
Meaghan stared at him in disbelief. This was a side of Terry that she had never before seen, despite having known him since childhood. He almost sounded jealous.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Leaning heavily against his desk, he told her. “The same night that Corel broke your wrist”—he pointed to her hand as a subtle reminder—“he informed me that you were his fiancé.”
“Why on earth would he say that?” Although the idea was ludicrous, the information pained her. Had he loved her?
Knots formed in the muscles of Terry’s forearms as he gripped his desk. “I have no idea why he would claim to be engaged to you, unless…”
“Unless what?”
“I imagine that Corel saw me notice you in the crowd. Maybe he was jealous.”
“That’s a joke.” Meaghan laughed for the first time since hearing the terrible news of David’s death. “Why on earth would he be jealous? As if there could be anything between us.”
“Yeah … as if.” Terry stood up and rounded his desk. He kept his back to her as he told her.
“Well. That’s all. I imagine you’ll need to pack your bags now that your fiancé has kicked the bucket.”
His words were cruel. So unlike the Terry she knew so well.
“I guess so,” Meaghan agreed. She hadn’t considered the fact that along with losing David, she had lost her accommodation. It surprised her to notice that Terry didn’t make an offer to let her stay in his spare room, or even on his couch. When she lived in her old dump, he constantly tried to convince her to move in with him but she treasured her independence and always declined his offers. After waiting a few moments to see if Terry would turn around and face her, she finally gave up and walked to the door. Before she was halfway down the corridor, he called after her.
“I don’t want to see you back here until that wrist is healed.”
****
Before returning to the Corel mansion, Meaghan checked out the local real estate agents. All the rental properties were well out of her price range, even if she was still collecting the scholarship money. Her mentor was gone, her future uncertain, and her heart shattered into a million pieces. She wondered if she should swallow her pride and ask Terry if she could crash at his place for a few weeks but after the icy reception in his office, she dismissed the idea. Although it was already dark, as the cab turned up the steep driveway, she could see the silhouette of a tall, well-built man standing in front of her cottage. Her heart missed a beat as she leaned forward in her seat. David? She didn’t care how he managed to cheat death, or even if he was the campus killer, she wanted to run into his arms and cover his face with kisses.
She held the door handle as she strained to get a closer look and was tempted to jump from the moving vehicle until the man stepped forward into the headlights of the cab. Derrick. Her stomach lurched as she s
lumped back into her seat and swallowed the bile that rose from her esophagus. Of course it would be Derrick. There was no possible way David could have survived the injuries that Terry had described. She had hoped to have at least a couple of days to stay on the property to absorb any lingering essence of David before she was forced on, but it seemed like all her hopes were to be dashed in the same day. Derrick’s presence meant only one thing. She was about to be evicted. When the cab stopped, he opened her door, gallantly paid the driver and greeted her with the news.
“I’m sorry, Meaghan, but I have some unhappy news.”
“I know.” She answered, trying to control the tears that burned behind her eyes.
“You know? How could you know?”
Derrick’s expression was a mixture of confusion and suspicion and Meaghan instantly realized her mistake. She should not have been privy to such information. Only the police and Derrick knew about last night’s events.
“The radio in the cab mentioned that there had been another murder on the campus last night. That makes four now, doesn’t it?”
“Five,” he informed her, his face still a mask that she couldn’t decipher.
Was he suspicious of her excuse or could he be David’s partner in crime? When he placed his hand on her shoulder, she knew what he was about to tell her and began to unravel. She couldn’t bear to hear the words again. David is dead.
The Art of Seduction Page 9