Deadly Obsession

by Karen M. Davis

  ‘Be here on the dot of 8.00 am tomorrow. Don’t ask me how, but by then I should have the keys to Jenna’s apartment. I know for a fact it hasn’t been touched since she died, apart from the obvious clean-up.’

  Lexie opened her mouth to ask the question.

  ‘I told you, don’t ask. I haven’t mentioned this to the rest of the team or even the Boss. It may come to nothing. And depending what we find or don’t find, we can go from there. We might also be in for a trip to Sussex Inlet to pick up Doctor Bream if the local cops down there find him. We can only hope.’

  Lexie nodded, dreading the thought of going through Jenna’s apartment. Although, she had to admit, a part of her was excited by the prospect of what they might find.

  ‘Okay, Brad, sounds good. See you in the morning.’

  Lexie turned to leave and then spun back again.

  ‘Thank you, Brad.’

  When he gave her a confused look, she added, ‘For believing in me.’

  Brad seemed stunned and unsure of how to respond. Big tough detectives were not good at taking compliments or receiving praise.

  ‘Get out of here. Just remember, watch that detective tonight at dinner. You know never to trust a cop, right? Unless it’s me.’

  ‘Of course. You are the only one I trust, Brad. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  *

  Lexie hightailed it home, showering and dressing in record time. Since it was freezing outside, she chose something warm and comfortable: a purple turtleneck jumper over black skinny jeans and calf-hugging brown boots. The outfit was classy, yet casual. Then, to dress it up a bit, Lexie looped a grey scarf around her neck and added some silver accessories: hooped earrings, bracelets and chains.

  Letting her long blonde hair hang loose down her back, she re-applied her makeup. Lexie’s olive skin was a bit pale for her liking, so for a touch of colour she brushed a spattering of bronzing powder across her clear complexion. A few strokes of rouge highlighted her high cheekbones. A trace of eyeliner and mascara accentuated her already large eyes. She dabbed lip-gloss across her lips and she was ready.

  Lexie was fetching her jacket when the taxi tooted its horn in the street below. Grabbing her purse, she rushed out the door.

  Fifteen minutes later she walked into the Thai Riffic Restaurant at Coogee and was greeted with a rush of warm air infused with the delicious aromas of the East. An incredibly wrinkled Asian gentleman with a welcoming smile showed her to her table. Lexie, who towered over the little man, could see clear over his head. Her gaze fell on Steve James, already seated at the far end of the room.

  He stood as she approached, greeting her with a wide smile and a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘You look even better than I remember,’ Steve said, appraising her with his eyes.

  Lexie did her best to appear unaffected as a thrill spread deep inside her. Smiling, she shrugged off her leather jacket and draped it over the back of the chair he held out for her.

  ‘Thanks, Steve,’ she said, sitting down and pulling the chair in a fraction. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself.’

  Lexie catalogued everything about him in an instant. It would have to be about five years since she had seen him last and it seemed time had not treated him too badly. If anything, he, too, looked better than she remembered. She guessed he’d have to be pushing forty by now, so his full head of dark hair, with not even the slightest hint of grey streaked through it, was an achievement. His body looked lean and strong. There were a few extra lines etched around his mouth and across his forehead, but that somehow added to his rugged good looks. The faint scar that ran from the corner of his mouth and disappeared under his chin was more pronounced, but, blended with his five o’clock shadow, managed to project a quiet air of danger about him.

  She would have to watch herself with this one, she thought, detecting the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach. That hadn’t happened since . . .

  Josh. Don’t think of Josh. Enjoy the moment.

  ‘Did you know I had a secret crush on you all those years ago?’ Steve said, taking her by surprise. ‘Of course I was married then so . . .’ he shrugged his wide shoulders, ‘I couldn’t do anything about it. Not married anymore, though.’

  He held up his wedding hand to show it was bare.

  Lexie gave a slightly nervous laugh, suddenly at a loss for something to say.

  Taking the bottle of white wine from the ice bucket attached to the side of the table, Steve poured Lexie a glass and handed it to her.

  ‘I hope you like sauvignon blanc?’

  Lexie would have much preferred chardonnay, but of course she didn’t say that. Graciously accepting the glass, she said, ‘That’s lovely.’

  The intensity of his hungry gaze upon her was almost intimidating. It made Lexie feel the slightest bit self-conscious and she looked away. She glanced around the small, authentically decorated restaurant, noting that every table was full. The soft music in the background could barely be heard above the hum of chatter.

  Tentatively she took her first sip of the wine, finally returning her gaze to meet Steve’s over the glass. He was still watching her and she wondered if he was waiting for a reaction.

  ‘Very nice,’ she said with feeling, savouring the tangy burst of flavour as the liquid slid down her throat.

  ‘Good, good, I’m glad you like it.’

  He seemed eager to please and dazzled her with a killer smile that displayed a perfect set of white teeth.

  Be careful, Lexie warned herself. This guy knows exactly how attractive he is. Don’t let your vulnerability show. He will eat you alive.

  ‘I have to be honest with you, Lexie. I was really happy when you called me today. I’m a very up-front type of guy, so I hope you don’t mind if I ask; is there anyone special in your life at the moment? Are you attached?’

  Wow, he didn’t believe in warming up, did he?

  Steve was laying his cards right across the table, all at once, and a little too soon, Lexie thought. She was unprepared for his directness. It instantly put her on guard. The initial pull of attraction might be there, but she needed to slow things down.

  ‘I’ve just come out of a serious relationship, so I suppose you could say I’m single but . . .’

  She searched for the right words. Did she want him to think she was available, interested? She wasn’t sure.

  ‘I’m not . . . um . . . really looking for anything right now.’

  Steve nodded and reached his hand across the table to cover hers. She waited for the tingle. It didn’t happen.

  ‘Sometimes things happen for a reason, Lexie.’

  What did she say to that? Nothing!

  Lexie glanced down at her menu. As she scanned the dishes on offer she could feel the weight of his stare upon her. She looked up and met his gaze. He refused to look away and she felt the first tinge of unease. The way his eyes were devouring her was disconcerting.

  ‘Would you like to share dishes or order separately?’ she asked, trying to change the subject.

  ‘Definitely share,’ he answered, his gaze not leaving her face.

  Oh boy. This was getting creepy.

  The next five minutes consisted of discussing food options. When they had chosen their entrée and mains, Steve called the waiter to take their order. He poured her a second glass of wine and Lexie gulped at it greedily, wondering where her first had gone.

  She was wound up so tight – the combination of all that had happened today along with his company was making her nervous. She really needed to relax.

  Taking a deep breath, she asked, ‘How long has it been since I last saw you? What have you been up to?’

  She couldn’t just launch into a barrage of questions about Jenna Harrison’s death. No; best to start with a bit of friendly chit-chat.

  It became instantly apparent that Steve James was very good at idle small talk, especially when it came to talking about himself. The next twenty-five minutes passed with Steve telling Lexie his life story.


  She heard all about his divorce. How his ex-wife had not got over it and could not let him go. How his fitness regime was his number one priority. How his workload was ridiculous and the office couldn’t survive without him – apparently. He complained about how the job was ‘fucked’, not like it used to be. He even threw in some details about the last girl he’d been dating and how she couldn’t keep up with him. This last piece of information was given with a wink.

  Lexie liked to think she was a pretty good judge of character. After thirty minutes in Steve James’s company, it was blatantly obvious that, unfortunately, his good looks were all he had going for him. It wasn’t enough.

  Maybe if she had worked up the courage to speak to Steve James nine years ago, when she had been a young probationer superficially infatuated with this big, strong, gorgeous detective, she would have discovered that no one could be more captivated and impressed with Steve James than the man himself.

  Such a shame!

  Lexie now had to hope he was good for the information she wanted or tonight was going to be a complete waste of time.

  ‘So you don’t mind if I ask you some questions about Jenna Harrison’s mur— death?’

  ‘Not at all, Lexie.’

  He didn’t even notice her near slip-up.

  ‘You can ask me anything you want.’

  He gave her another wink and a one-sided grin he had no doubt practised in the mirror.

  Lexie repressed a groan.

  ‘The day Jenna died, when you arrived at her apartment, how did you know she had overdosed?’

  He chuckled softly.

  ‘The empty packets of OxyContin foils next to her body were a dead giveaway. It’s a common drug used by smackies when they can’t get their hands on the real deal. Hillbilly heroin, they call it,’ he told her, sipping his wine.

  Lexie knew all that but pretended to be enthralled.

  A bald-headed Asian waiter approached with a smile and placed their mixed entrée in the middle of the table.

  ‘Thank God, I’m starving,’ Steve said, rather rudely.

  Straightaway Steve reached across the table and helped himself to a portion from each dish. Lexie waited patiently until he was done before serving herself.

  ‘Could it have been an accidental overdose?’ she asked.

  A look, something akin to condescension, crossed Steve’s face.

  ‘I’ve been a detective for eighteen years. There was an empty blister pack of twelve OxyContin tablets next to her. You wouldn’t take that many of anything if you didn’t want to do yourself in. She also left a note. Then, as I told you today, the pathologist’s findings confirmed what we suspected.’

  ‘Did you go to the autopsy?’

  He pulled an unattractive face as he bit into a spring roll.

  ‘Why would I do that? I hate those things. Besides, it’s not like it was a murder.’

  ‘The pathologist who conducted the autopsy told me that Jenna Harrison had an injection site around her neck/shoulder area? Do you know anything about that?’

  Steve James didn’t look up from his food.

  ‘I didn’t see any needles lying around, so I don’t know what that’s about. What does it matter how she did it, anyway? If you take too much of anything orally or intravenously it’s going to kill you.’

  Lexie swallowed her irritation.

  ‘What did Jenna’s doctor say about the tablets?’

  She posed the question knowing full well he hadn’t bothered to ask her.

  ‘I spoke to her only briefly. You know what doctors are like, always busy,’ he said dismissively, evading the details. ‘It was a cut and dry suicide. She had attempted it before. There was a note and a rose in her hand. She meant to die. It was a shame because she was a real looker.’

  Oh boy . . . I’m liking you less and less.

  Lexie, of course, didn’t mention she had spoken to Doctor Norjin, or that the doctor had denied prescribing OxyContin for Jenna. There was no point. Steve James had come to the conclusion that Jenna’s death was a suicide probably from the moment he attended the scene. Therefore he hadn’t bothered to look further, into other possibilities. His attitude alone spoke a thousand words. If Detective James had bothered to investigate Jenna’s prior history of self-harm, he would have discovered that she had never taken an overdose of drugs before; that she was scared of needles. She had always used the same modus operandi in her previous suicide attempts – a cut wrist. But even if he had bothered to look into her history, it probably wouldn’t have made any difference to his attitude.

  ‘Can you remember what the note said?’ she persisted, taking a bite of the spring roll and washing it down with a sip of wine.

  Steve James had finished his half of the mixed platter and was eyeing the fish cake Lexie had not yet touched.

  ‘You want that?’

  Yes.

  ‘No, you can have it.’

  Who takes someone else’s food on a first date? she wondered. Someone who is totally self-involved and has an overabundance of confidence.

  ‘What was the question?’ he asked through a mouthful of food.

  Speaking with your mouth full and not closing your mouth while chewing were Lexie’s pet hates. Steve James was doing both.

  ‘Oh yeah, the note. It was just the usual. Something about not being able to take it anymore. Everyone would be better off without me. Blah, blah, blah. I can fax you a copy, if you like.’

  Lexie felt her whole body stiffen in response to his tactless words. She had mentioned that Jenna had been her friend. Yet he hadn’t bothered to attempt to hide his indifference towards her death. He hadn’t even bothered to attempt to soften his words. His lack of consideration for her feelings left Lexie cold. However, she disguised her growing distaste for this man by pasting a pleasant smile on her face.

  ‘That would be great, thanks. I’d appreciate the crime scene photographs as well.’

  Steve nodded as if he was doing her a great favour.

  Lexie was grateful when the waiter reappeared, placing bowls of steaming Thai dishes before them. The aromatic scent of red curry chicken and stir-fry beef made her mouth water. She watched Steve’s eyes light up as without hesitation, or manners, he scooped more than half of the rice out of the bowl onto his plate before helping himself to the chicken curry. Lexie watched him lick his spoon and then, double-dipping, plunge it straight into the next dish.

  Lexie felt herself shudder.

  ‘I’m assuming Forensics attended. Did they find anything?’

  Steve James shovelled food into his mouth.

  ‘Of course they attended. And no, they found nothing. Not even the girl’s fingerprints in her own bedroom. She must have been a cleaning freak.’

  Or was the scene wiped down before the police got there?

  Lexie forced herself to eat something before there was nothing left. When a protracted silence stretched to the point of becoming awkward, Steve finally stopped eating and glanced up at her face. Lexie met his gaze.

  His eyes were dark, flat and uncaring. The remnants of any physical attraction she had initially felt choked and died completely. The rugged features she had found so appealing only a short time ago now appeared mean. What had happened to his integrity, his compassion, she wondered? What had made him such an incompetent and callous cop?

  So that he wouldn’t see the contempt in her eyes, Lexie glanced away, picking at the morsels of food on her plate. And even without direct eye contact she could not miss his gaze drift, not for the first time, towards her breasts. It was suddenly crystal clear. There were probably only two things Steve James cared about right at this moment: the food he was scooping into his mouth, and getting into her pants.

  ‘That purple top looks so good on you. Good enough to eat,’ he leered, then touched her hand gently across the table.

  She wanted to snatch it away but forced herself to endure his touch. What had she ever seen in this guy? Everything about him was slimy and unclea
n. He was making her feel dirty just being in his presence.

  Drinking the last of her wine, Lexie reached for the bottle and poured the rest of its contents into her glass without offering any to Steve. Now grateful she had taken the liberty of catching a taxi instead of driving, Lexie intended to use the assistance of alcohol to get her through the remainder of dinner.

  ‘So did the rose she was holding have any significance?’

  Steve James spooned the last of his curry into his mouth and shrugged as if her question was of no consequence.

  ‘No idea. It might have had some meaning to her, I suppose.’

  He clearly didn’t give a shit!

  This night had been a complete waste of time, Lexie thought, downing more of the wine. Her head was feeling just the slightest bit light and she welcomed the sensation. Searching her mind for a believable excuse to slip away, she was saved from inventing some far-fetched story about checking on a sick neighbour or the like when Steve announced he was full.

  ‘It’s time for a nightcap.’

  Steve gave her what Lexie was sure he thought to be a sexy smile.

  ‘Would you like to go to my place or yours?’

  Lexie shouldn’t have been shocked by his audacity. But she was. Did he seriously think that it was a given they would end the night together, in either his bed or hers? Boy, did he have it wrong. But if he had the balls to put it out there, to proposition her so directly, she was more than happy to put him straight. Alcohol had helped fuel the growing fire in her chest and readied her for battle.

  ‘You’ve given me a tiny bit of information and for that you expect me to feel obliged to sleep with you? Are you for real?’

  Her voice was incredulous and a little too loud, as the couple at the next table turned to look at them.

  Steve looked aghast. Suddenly it struck him he’d offended her. He leant forward and lowered his voice.

  ‘I was hoping to sleep with you because that was what we both wanted, not because I’d given you information or you felt obligated.’

  He was missing the point. Who did he think he was?

  ‘Have I seriously given you the impression that I can hardly abstain from diving on top of you? Do you seriously think yourself so desirable that all women cannot resist you?’