"What did he want this time?"
She quickly related their terse discussion. "I had to give him your cell phone number so he could ask you about the thug."
"I'll call him. What's his number?"
She handed him the detective's card. "I doubt if he's in now. It's after six. I'm sure it can wait until morning."
Drew hesitated, then went ahead and copied the number off the card. They both managed to push the detective out of their conversation until, in the middle of clearing the table after dinner, that man once again appeared at Teri's door.
The sight of him spoiled the relaxed mood Teri had worked so hard to achieve.
"Detective Kidder? I didn't expect to see you again today. Do you have some news?"
"No. Sorry. But the police officer cruising the neighborhood saw a strange car in your driveway and reported it because of the watch order. I wanted to follow it up personally and make sure you were all right."
"Thank you," Teri said as she ushered him inside. "I appreciate your prompt attention and concern, but as you can see, I'm fine. The car belongs to Mr. Marshall." She turned to motion toward her guest and was surprised to see him hovering close behind her.
Kidder nodded once. "Yes. I remember Mr. Marshall. We met at the station. This is actually very convenient. I was going to call you tonight. Would this be a bad time?" Kidder looked from one to the other.
Teri answered. "Not at all. I'll go finish the dishes."
Kidder held up his index finger. "If you don't mind, I'd like to speak with the both of you." He encouraged them to sit on the couch while he stationed himself in a seat across from them.
For the first time, Teri saw Kidder preparing to take notes.
"First, Mr. Marshall, are you aware that you are a key witness in what may very well become a homicide case? Mrs. Gambini gave me your phone number but we need to have an address as well."
Drew quickly gave him his new address and Kidder wrote it down.
"And do you have a work address and phone number?"
When Drew hesitated, Teri replied for him. "Until he finds an adequate studio of his own, he's renting space in mine."
Kidder's brows raised. "Oh? Are you an artist also?"
"Photographer," Drew corrected without elaborating.
"And could you describe the man who threatened Mrs. Gambini last Thursday?"
Drew's photographic eye had him relating small details Teri hadn't noticed, like the evidence of a broken nose.
The detective set his notepad and pen on the coffee table between them. "Now, I'd like both your ideas on this. Why do you suppose he made such clear threats in front of witnesses?"
Teri thought the detective's body looked at ease, but his eyes were intently watching Drew and her. She had the impression he was looking for a specific reaction. Again, she replied first. "I was so upset when it happened, all I could think about was how embarrassing it was... you know, in front of business associates. But later, I wondered the same thing.
"Then I realized I was too frightened by what he could do to me if I complained to the police about him. I wouldn't have ever mentioned it if Rico hadn't seemed to have disappeared. I guess he was used to that reaction from people like me and that was why he wasn't worried about witnesses. I mean, he wasn't the kind of person you wanted to make an enemy of."
Drew agreed with Teri's assumptions and added, "He was in and out so fast, I didn't even have a chance to gather my wits, let alone challenge him. I got the idea he hadn't been expectin' an audience, but once he was in the door it was too late to back out gracefully. I doubt if he wanted to take a chance on coming back again later."
Teri's eyes widened at the realization that Drew had even contemplated something as dangerous as challenging the hulk. When her gaze touched on Kidder, she noticed that tight little smile she was beginning to despise.
Kidder picked up his pad and pen again. "As I said before, Mr. Marshall, you are a key witness, and as such, you need to provide me a little more information. Background, that kind of thing." He made a sound that was almost a chuckle. "Have to make sure you're reliable and all that. Have to ask the same thing of your model," he added for Teri's benefit.
Teri's ears perked up. She wasn't sure why Kidder needed it, but she was interested in any information Drew might relate. Drew's eyes narrowed at Kidder and he sat forward, his body noticeably rigid, but he didn't refuse outright. Kidder appeared not to notice Drew's hostility as he asked his first question.
"Your accent's not exactly New York, Mr. Marshall. Where are you from?"
"Fort Worth."
"Former address?" Drew gave it, and Kidder wrote it down.
"When did you move here?"
"About three weeks ago."
Kidder looked surprised. "So recently? Doesn't say much for our fair city when a newcomer moves in and gets involved in a possible homicide almost immediately, does it?"
Teri was stunned at the way Kidder hinted that there might be some connection between Drew's arrival and Rico's disappearance. But Drew fielded the comment with sarcasm.
"Actually, I had a few friends in Texas who thought I would end up a victim if I moved here. New York City doesn't exactly have a sterlin' reputation in other parts of the country."
Teri could tell that Kidder didn't find Drew funny, but he let it drop.
"Are you married? Have any children?"
"Divorced. Two children. They're in Fort Worth with my ex-wife."
"At the address you gave me?" Drew gave him a stiff nod and Kidder made another note. "And how long have you known Mrs. Gambini?"
"About two weeks."
Kidder's expression bordered on shock. "Really? I would have thought you'd known each other for quite a while, what with your escorting her to the station last week and all. So, how did you two happen to meet?"
Teri didn't care for Kidder's insinuations but didn't want to appear at all uncooperative. "I hired Mr. Marshall, through a mutual acquaintance, to do some work for me, and I'm very grateful that I did. Not only is he an excellent photographer, he's been a big help with this..." She struggled for the right word. "...strange situation."
Kidder gave another one of his non-smiles. "I can tell. Everybody needs a shoulder to lean on at times. Tell me, Mr. Marshall, did you have your own photography business back in Texas?"
Teri could feel the tension radiating from Drew's body as his fingers curled into fists and relaxed again. Part of her wanted to call a halt to any questioning that would upset him, but another part of her waited expectantly for his answer.
"No," Drew said quietly. His jaw stiffened and his casual drawl nearly disappeared under the obvious strain to speak at all. "I wasn't working as a photographer then." Kidder angled his head, also waiting for more. "I worked... for the United States Government."
"Oh?" Kidder was clearly intrigued. "You say that rather cryptically, Mr. Marshall. Were you involved in some top-secret work?"
Teri saw a faint flush cross Drew's cheekbones. She wanted to take his hand, tell him it was okay, he didn't have to tell the nosy detective anything. But it was not her place to do that, so she waited again and watched him take a deep, slow breath.
"No, Detective," Drew said in a hollow voice. "There was nothing secret about it. I just don't believe in looking backward. And that was one job I'd rather forget about."
Teri felt relieved when Kidder didn't push Drew on the subject, but her relief was followed by a pang of disappointment. She still didn't know what Drew had done for a living.
Kidder asked Drew a few more general questions then left without apologizing for interrupting their evening.
Tension pulsed in the room for several seconds after Teri locked the front door.
Without thinking about it, she sat down close to Drew and put her arms around his shoulders.
Instead of accepting her hug, he stiffened and pulled back to stare at her. "What's that for?"
Teri immediately withdrew her arms and sat back with he
r head down. "I thought you needed a hug. I didn't know that only worked one way."
He closed his eyes and sighed as he ran his hands through his hair. After another slow breath, he looked at her again. "That obvious, huh?"
She shrugged, not wanting to add to his discomfort.
"Okay, I'm ready. I'll take that hug now... if it's still being offered."
Teri smiled and leaned forward to envelop his upper body once more.
"Feels good," he murmured near her ear.
"I owe you."
For a long moment, neither said a word. When his hands pressed against her lower back, she automatically shifted around on the couch so they were chest to chest, and the consoling hug became a tender embrace.
"Teri, we have to talk," he said softly, but the hands stroking her spine whispered other suggestions, and she snuggled more comfortably into the contours of his body.
She didn't want to talk... or think. She'd done enough of that in the last few days. And the last half hour with Kidder had been like having a tooth drilled without Novocain. This was much better, just feeling nice—giving and taking without questions or recriminations. Unfortunately Drew didn't feel the same way.
Gently disengaging her arms, but still holding her hands, he waited to speak until she slowly raised her eyes to meet his. "I'm sorry I handled Kidder so badly."
"Sorry? He's horribly rude. You didn't say anything to be sorry about."
"I'm afraid it's what I didn't say. I should have just told him what he wanted to know, but—" He looked away from her. "Lord knows I've tried, but I can't stop being defensive about it. I'm sure my reluctance to talk was taken the wrong way, and now he'll start digging on his own."
"I don't understand. What difference would it make what you did back in Texas?"
"I'm not sure, but I can recognize a man on a hunting trip when I see one. I just can't tell what he's hunting for."
"Funny you should say that. I got the same feeling myself." She told him about Kidder's inspection of her house.
Drew offered a possibility she hadn't thought of it before, but wanted to believe as soon as she heard it. "Maybe it's his investigative style to gather every fact he can, regardless of whether it's relevant. I can't fault him for that. But I'm afraid he could come up with something that could reflect on you."
Teri was dumbfounded. "That's ridiculous. Whatever you did in Texas has nothing to do with me."
Drew looked into her eyes and made a judgment call. "It does if one of your so-called key witnesses is a convicted felon."
She gasped and covered her mouth with her fingertips too late to smother it.
"And a drug addict. And let's not forget, I almost killed four hundred people."
Chapter 8
He turned his head from her and tried to pull his hands away, but she held tight.
"Drew. Drew. Look at me." He did as she ordered, but his expression was defensive. He was clearly prepared for a nasty tongue-lashing. "You can't say things like that and not explain. It's against the rules."
"Hmmph. Whose rules?"
"Mine. I make them up as I go along. Now talk." She sensed him wavering between getting up and walking out and unburdening his soul. She encouraged the latter. "The man I've gotten to know this last week couldn't possibly have done those things. Unless, of course, he was possessed by the devil. Is that what happened to you, Drew? If you tell me it is, I'll believe you, you know. I've already drawn my own solid conclusions about you and I'd believe anything you say."
He fought a grin and ended up shaking his head. "You're too much. How could your husband have been such a fool to treat you the way he did?"
"You're detouring."
"You're right. I haven't told all of it to anyone—except a psychiatrist. Oh, did I forget to mention I was also committed?"
"Drew, you are quickly starting to lose some of that credibility I referred to."
"It's all true, darlin', and I'll tell you all about it if you really want me to. The way I've been thinking about you, it's probably better if you find out now rather than later. But first, I want to let you off the hook. I don't need your disgust or your pity. After you hear all the gruesome details, you are free to avoid me at all costs, and that includes canceling our agreement about the studio."
"All right. No disgust, no pity, no moralizing of any kind. Spill."
Again he tried to free his hands, but she refused to break contact.
"Okay. Remember, you asked for this." It took him another few seconds before he began. "I was an air traffic controller. You've probably heard about the kind of stress that goes with that career. I might have handled it fine if my marriage hadn't been such a strain. I told you how my wife was. She never made a single decision on her own. I even had to go grocery shopping with her, or do it myself, because she didn't know which bathroom cleanser I preferred." Remembered frustration showed clearly on his face.
"After the kids were born, it only got crazier. She'd leave messages at the tower half a dozen times a day, insisting it was an emergency. Usually it was for something as stupid as whether I wanted steak or pork chops for dinner. But it was about the kids too. She had no idea how to handle the smallest, normal thing, like a skinned knee. All that time I kept telling myself, if I just help her get through this stage or that, she'll be standing on her own two feet in no time."
Teri squeezed his hands. "You aren't the first person who thought like that. I know. I've been bailing Rico out for a year, and every damn time, he promised it was the last. I never really believed him, but I wanted to so much, I kept giving him another chance."
He tried to smile, but it wasn't convincing. "Sounds like we're quite a pair. Anyway, at first I eased the stress with a drink after work, and then a few more. Before long, I started bringing hundred-proof cocktails to work in my thermos. The problem was, the alcohol made me too drowsy to stay as alert as the job required."
Teri squeezed his hands a little harder this time. "But it didn't stop there?"
He met her concerned expression with one of self-disgust. "Right. When a co-worker introduced me to cocaine, I fell in love with the drug. It was perfect. I was relaxed but alert. I could handle the job, my helpless wife, two growing kids. All I needed was a little snort now and then. The only problem was the expense."
He made a move to rise and she let him slip his hands from hers. He walked over to the picture window and stared out, but she knew that he was seeing his own nightmares.
"Pretty soon I had to find a few customers of my own to support the habit. I didn't know it at the time, but I'd turned into Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Brenda and the kids were terrified of me. I still don't remember doing half the things she said I did during that time. I doubt if the kids'll ever forgive me."
"Haven't you talked to them?"
Drew shook his head, but he kept his back to her. "Not since the arrest... about a year ago. I haven't had the nerve."
Teri determined to discuss his negligence further at a later date. "Why were you arrested?"
He turned then, and she watched him physically prepare to withstand the disgust he expected her to respond with. "The arrest was for possession, enough to make it a felony. But what happened before the arrest was the greater crime." He paused and gathered the confidence to tell her the rest. "I'd been using for about a year. Never too much at one time, mind you. I always believed I had it under control. Of course, that's what all addicts tell themselves on the way downhill."
She got up and walked over to him. With the briefest touch on his cheek, she let him know he could tell her the rest, but only if he wanted to.
As if he was afraid of what his hands might do, he shoved them into his front pockets and again looked out beyond the window. "I froze one day. On the job. I was looking at my screen, talking to two separate pilots on my headset, and I panicked. I saw blips that weren't there and couldn't find the planes I knew were." He paused, and she touched his back, but he moved away from her and crossed back to the couch
as he continued.
"There's no room for panic or hesitation in that job. If it hadn't been for the guy next to me knocking me out of my chair and taking over, I'd have killed everyone on those two planes. See, I was bringing both pilots in on the same runway, at the same time, from two different directions. They wouldn't have been able to avoid the collision I was setting up without realizing it."
"Oh God, Drew, how awful. I can understand why you don't like to talk about it. But you mustn't let it keep eating away at you. No one was actually hurt, were they?"
He slumped down onto the couch as if the weight of his confession was more than he could bear. She sat beside him.
"If you mean did the planes get down safely, then yeah, no one was actually hurt. Unfortunately, this little tale gets worse. I was so out of the real world, I got up from the floor and tried to beat the hell out of the guy who had saved all those people. They had to call Security to restrain me and get me out of the tower. Cocky bastard that I was, I had my stash right in my pants pocket. I was lucky they only got me for possession. They could have caught me selling the stuff."
When he paused, she reached for his hand once more, and he gave in to her. "The judge accepted my attorney's defense that I was in a high-pressure job. He had me committed to six months in a state institution—more kindly referred to as a rehabilitation clinic—under psychiatric care. Ann was the only one in the family who seemed to believe I could straighten myself out. She's the one who suggested I come to New York when I got out."
Teri didn't know what to say. She had promised she wouldn't pity him, but she felt sad nonetheless. And she could tell by the way he looked and talked that he hadn't yet forgiven himself for falling apart. "Are you completely sober now?"
"Yes, I stopped using the day I was arrested and haven't touched anything since. Not even alcohol."
"Cold turkey? That had to have been hard."
"I didn't deserve the easy route."
"Do you have any desire to use cocaine or alcohol again?"
Wicked Obsessions Page 9