Burning Kiss

by Angela Addams

“Okay, fine, I’ll give you the file when we go home.” I gulped down the rest of my drink. “But I have to warn you.”

  “They were raped, right?” Her expression changed immediately. “That’s what you’re protecting me from, isn’t it?” She grabbed my hand and pulled me forward, her eyes staring into mine. “I’m fractured a little, but I’m not going to wither and die. I had therapy, remember?”

  And you didn’t. That’s what she didn’t say but I saw it in her eyes.

  We sat silent for a while. Picking at the food. The waitress brought me a fresh drink. Kassey hadn’t touched hers for some reason. I’d gulped mine, of course. I had my own therapy. I just couldn’t tell her about it. And no one was saying I had to stop.

  Well, Steve was saying that but I didn’t really consider his opinion in my life choices anymore. I could be smarter about it. More calculated. And Kassey and I working on solving this case would be just the distraction I needed to keep those impulses under control so I didn’t make any more mistakes. One by one, I was getting back what I’d lost when I’d let her be attacked. Power. Control. And perhaps the satisfaction that the guys I baited would be traumatized into better behaviour.

  Maybe Steve was right and rehabilitation was still in my repertoire. So stopping was out of the question but slowing down to come up with a better plan? Yeah, that’s something that a smart person would do.

  “Earth to Jade.” Kassey snapped her fingers, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re going to let me work on this case.” It was a statement, not a question, with fire in her eyes.

  I nodded. “Eddie would probably appreciate another set of eyes.” I didn’t actually know if Eddie would be okay with me sharing case information but I guess I didn’t care either. I had my best friend back. That’s all that mattered.

  “I’ve always been smarter than you anyway.” She winked.

  “No argument here.” I gave her a sly smile. “This whole thing is a giant conflict of interest anyway.”

  “If the case is cold, then what difference does it make if you let me see it? You can always argue that I’m another expert opinion.”

  “He invited me into this, so he invited you too.” I smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Partners forever.”

  “’Til death do us part.”

  16

  Once we got home I gave her the file. And then hovered over her while she read it. At least for a little while before she started throwing things at me to stop.

  “Jade.” Two hours later, Kassey stood at my bedroom door, the file in her hand, folded up but for her finger holding a place. She was pale. Well, paler than usual. And she’d been crying.

  “I told you.” I sat up with a sigh and closed my laptop. “Come sit.” I patted the bed.

  She hesitated for a moment, and just as I remembered what I was asking of her, just as I was ready to redirect to the kitchen instead, she came right in and sat down, opening the file to Candace’s autopsy photo. “It’s brutal.”

  “And disturbing.” I nodded.

  “He was re-enacting the poem.” She flipped to the next photo. “That’s her blood, right?”

  I gulped. Nodded.

  “And the kid you saw in the poster, that’s him right?” She flipped again and pulled out Kiefer’s profile.

  “Yeah, he’s got an alibi but it’s just not sitting with me.”

  “He’s a student and an actor.” She looked up at me finally. “Poetry isn’t farfetched.”

  “No.”

  “I think we should go and speak with him tomorrow. Rehearsals are open to the public. I used to go and sit in sometimes on my lunch or when I needed a mental break.”

  “So we could just go in and watch him?”

  She shrugged. “I think we should go and do more than watch.”

  “Interview him?”

  “Ask him some questions. Read his body language.”

  My mind went to Eddie. Was that considered interfering with his investigation? He said that he was done with Kiefer. That there was no investigation happening with such limited evidence. “So you think I’m right? There’s something not jiving with this whole thing?”

  She nodded. “I think this warrants a deeper look, yeah. And maybe we, the trained psychologists, will be able to read things a little better than that detective you’re fucking.”

  “Good plan.” I touched her arm. “Let’s get some sleep. We’ll get serious about hunting down a murderer tomorrow.”

  And really, I’d planned to do that. Went through the motions. Even put pyjamas on and brushed my teeth. But after tossing and turning for a few hours I couldn’t stand it any longer. I needed to go out. So I dressed in black and holstered my Taser then went back to campus.

  If I were a serial killer, I sure as shit wouldn’t be doing anything suspicious during the day.

  Security had always been understated at school. I’d never felt like I was being watched or that activity was monitored. With the murder and the body’s display, there were more actual uniformed guards roaming the grounds, but not enough that I couldn’t slip around unseen.

  Walking at night had never felt safe. As a woman, you always had to think about where you were going, whether or not you would be in a well-lit area, whether or not you would catch someone’s eye. Call unwanted attention. It happened during the day too, but at night it always seemed more dangerous. And that was bullshit. Bullshit for all women to have to give a second thought to going for a midnight stroll alone. Why did men feel so entitled and women didn’t? Because history had proven that a woman alone was vulnerable. Hell, a woman among a group was sometimes vulnerable too. And sometimes, a woman with someone she trusted was the most vulnerable of all.

  A thought struck me then. It was late. Almost late enough for the pubs to start closing up. Last call and all that. I detoured toward the campus houses that had been converted into drinking holes and restaurants over the centuries that the school had been in existence. Some were frat houses and sororities but those were situated on the North side of campus and were surrounded by homes occupied by professors. Like Arthur, who had an old, two-story Victorian that was the envy of anyone who saw it.

  I moved in the shadows, not trying to be stealth necessarily, but I did want to be an observer. Was someone out there watching for a new victim? Was there a serial killer lurking who would snatch up a girl randomly or was the real danger in the couples? Should I be paying attention to the ones who were so in love? Displaying new love? Strange love? How exactly does one pinpoint a murderer? I shook my head. It was no real shock that Eddie had no leads. With no evidence and no real profile, how could he know where to look?

  I sighed as I continued walking toward the bars, the sound of people talking making me move off to the side so I could melt into the darkness. The truth was I had no idea what to look for in general. Suspicious activity? What did that look like? This wasn’t the normal kind of hunt for me. Normally I baited, putting me in the position of power. Tonight was different, uncomfortable. Making me feel less in control.

  I passed the theatre and veered off to the left, moving to the nearest bar.

  “Kiefer!” A shrill giggle came from ahead followed by a gasp and another round of shouts.

  I stepped completely off the path and darted to a nearby tree. Kiefer himself came waltzing down the path, surrounded by an entourage of men and women, all in varying degrees of drunkenness.

  “Rehearsal will be fun tomorrow.” Kiefer was laughing as he stumbled into another guy, taking them both to the ground in a heap.

  “Screw rehearsal!” one of the girls shouted. “We know what we’re doing! Bring on the real deal.”

  Kiefer sat panting on the grass, his face beaming. “You’re right, Rach. Fuck rehearsal.” He waved toward one of the others. “Who has the flask?”

  A flask materialized. Kiefer took a long swig then passed it on. “So, what should we do then?”

  “Find some trouble.” One of the girls swooped down and offered her
hand to help him up.

  “Trouble? Like what?” Kiefer laughed.

  “Ghost hunting!” the one he called Rach shouted.

  “In the tunnels!” another one said.

  “Ohhhhhh, yes, let’s find a way into the tunnels,” Rach said.

  Kiefer straightened, ignoring the offered hand as he pushed himself to his feet. “That’s a terrible idea.” He brushed his pants off.

  “I don’t think so. I think it’s a great idea!” one of the other girls squealed. “You’re not scared, are you?”

  Kiefer turned on her, a flash of anger apparent on his face. “No, I’m not scared. I’m just not going down there. It’s dangerous. And if we get caught, it’s discipline immediately. You want all our hard work to go to waste? Dean Anderson would suspend the production for sure.”

  “Whoa, dude, no need to get all serious. It was just a fun idea.” A tall male stepped out of the shadows with a girl under his arm who was gazing up at him. Actors and their groupies.

  “Rumour is that’s the way the killer got Candace’s body to the library,” another of the guys said, his voice serious, though his grin made it seem like he was joking.

  “Shut up, Dale,” Kiefer growled.

  “You are scared,” Dale mocked. “Scared that Candace is haunting that place?”

  So students had heard about details of the murder. Rumours were hard to contain for sure but Kiefer had a personal connection to the victim. Did any of the others?

  “Let it go,” one of the quieter girls said, her voice meek. She stepped next to Kiefer and slid her arm around his waist. “I think it’s a bad idea too. Let’s just go home.”

  Kiefer stiffened, stepped away from her and snatched the flask again. He took a long draw then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Fine, you’re so brave tonight, let’s do it. Let’s go down there.”

  I perked up at that. Did Kiefer know a way in?

  Without another word, he stormed off across the lawn, beelining straight for the library in the distance. His friends all looked shocked for a moment, then scrambled after him. And I followed.

  There were more whoops and hollers, more stumbling around. Obviously this was just the usual fun and games. No care for danger. No consideration of anything but seeking adventure. Typical.

  There was a large oak next to the library. I knew it well. Used to sit there studying as an undergrad. It was peaceful. I stood there now, hidden as I watched Kiefer and his friends.

  There was a gate at the bottom of a series of small concrete steps. I couldn’t see it but I could hear them rattling the lock. It was one of the better known passageway entrances. Also one that was always locked with a padlock. Caretakers used that entrance, if I remembered correctly. There was a small nook just inside the door where they stored some of their supplies. With my quiet afternoons spent under that tree, I’d learned a lot about the comings and goings of the ground crew back in the day.

  There was much giggling. Snorting. Whoops. The clanging loud enough that it was sure to draw attention. And then they weren’t rattling the metal. They were whispering. There was a gasp. And suddenly it was silent.

  I peered out from my hiding spot. The crowd was gone. I moved closer to the steps and realized not everyone was gone. Kiefer was there, his body pressed up against a girl, her hands trapped above in one of his. The gate was open.

  “The others,” I heard her say.

  “They won’t see.”

  “Devin?”

  “She’s with the others.”

  There was another gasp. “Oh,” the girl said. And then they were kissing and I stepped back into the shadows.

  Kiefer had already established himself as a cheater. Was it possible that he’d had something to do with Candace’s death or was he just a lousy boyfriend? Dishonesty was one thing—rape and murder something different.

  The girl giggled and pushed Kiefer away. “I can’t believe you got it open.”

  “I was here a couple of weeks ago, reading over there.” Kiefer motioned in my direction. “Heard the caretakers talking about a broken lock.”

  “Did you go in there?”

  “Nah, I had rehearsal. Then I kind of forgot about it.”

  Yeah right.

  So Kiefer had known the gate was open? And he hadn’t told anyone? Was he the one who had broken the lock? Did Eddie know the gate was broken? Kiefer said it had been a couple of weeks ago that he’d heard the lock was broken. That was after Candace’s murder. After the investigation had closed. Once things had quieted down. Chances were, Eddie had no idea. It meant there was another way to access the tunnels without anyone noticing. And if the caretakers knew the lock was broken and hadn’t yet fixed it… Well, that was strange too.

  There was an echoed yelp then the whole crowd came pouring out of the passageway, nearly taking Kiefer and the girl to the ground in their haste.

  Everyone was giggling and screaming.

  “Get out of here!” a deep rumbling voice came from behind them.

  They all shrieked and scattered. I stayed put. Watched as a large figure came out of the passageway, flashlight in hand.

  “Damn kids,” the voice grumbled. The gate rattled. Another round of cursing. “Damn lock’s broken again.”

  The figure grumbled some more then came out of the stairwell, the light from the walkway illuminating his face. I recognized him as the head caretaker. Mr. Wright, I thought his name was.

  I stepped out of the shadows. “That happen a lot?”

  “Jesus Christ!” Mr. Wright grasped at his chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, girl. What are you doing out here alone this time of night?”

  “Just out for a stroll. Saw those students sneaking around.”

  Mr. Wright eyed me with obvious suspicion. “You a professor?”

  “No, I work with Professor Stone,” I lied.

  “Ah, yes, Psychology. I know him well.” He wiped his hands on his pants. “And yes every once in a while the kids get up some courage to go ghost hunting.” He winced. “You heard what happened here?”

  “To Candace Bryne? Yes.”

  He nodded, his expression hard to read. “Just discovered the lock was broken again. Thought there might be trouble.”

  “So why not tell security?”

  He shrugged. “It’s my job to maintain these gates. Had trouble sleeping, thought I’d go for a walk.”

  “In the passageway?”

  He scratched his chin. “Saturday night. Bars closing. Wanted to see who showed up.”

  Investigating too? Or something else.

  “So you think that the murderer is a student?”

  “Nah, I don’t think nothing like that. I just knew if there was going to be trouble, it would be on a Saturday night.”

  “Uh huh.” I glanced past him. Kiefer and the others were long gone.

  “I’ll be buying a new lock tomorrow. Putting it on and reporting this to the Dean again.”

  “And he won’t be wondering why you were out this late looking for troublemakers?”

  “Doesn’t seem to be that unusual now, does it?” He scanned me from head to toe. “Seems to me that there are a few of us out looking for troublemakers.”

  17

  I didn’t tell Kassey about my night adventure. Another secret. But I would tell her. I would.

  Just not right now.

  We sat in the top seating area of the theatre, once again in the shadows, watching the same group I’d followed the night before work their way through the murder of a king.

  Kiefer was good. Better than good. He had talent that would probably take him places. I mean, if he wasn’t a murderer.

  “I have an idea.” Kassey leaned forward so her elbows were on her knees. She was watching Kiefer intently. “How about you go ask him questions and I’ll sneak down to the shadows and watch him. Assess his body language without him knowing.”

  “See, you are the smart one.”

  She smiled at me then we both stood. I helped
her navigate down the tight seating and led her to the back staircase where she could descend without being seen.

  The play was wrapping, final scene rolling out with flare and enough drama to do justice to the classic. Oedipus Rex was one of the plays I’d actually enjoyed reading while taking the obligatory English Lit in high school. I liked how they could not outwit destiny, as much as they tried Fate could not be denied. Wasn’t that always the way? I’d tried and tried to run away from my inner demons. To keep that darkness down. And yet, things just had a way of tapping into what made me tick. Demanding that I take action.

  I waited at the bottom step just ahead of the stage while they said their final lines. The theatre was in serious need of funding, and just as Kassey had always said, neglected by the university for some reason. But in its state of disrepair, it had an old world charm that you couldn’t replicate. The seats were fold-down, worn red velvet with ornate design that had seen a hundred years of use. The wood creaked when you sat and the padding was nearly all gone. The stage was framed by angels playing trumpets, their wings behind them, feet resting on boughs. They’d mercifully not been painted over the years and still had their original stain and polish. The wood floor of the stage groaned as Kiefer took a brief bow then shook hands with the other actors. The curtain didn’t drop, though, and I had to wonder if that was for fear of the fabric truly falling in a heap.

  “Kiefer Jones?” I called out, spotting Kassey taking a seat in the shadows to my left. She’d have an excellent view of him if we stayed put but wouldn’t necessarily be able to hear the conversation.

  He glanced down at me, shielding his eyes from the lights overhead. “Yes, that’s me.”

  I held my hand out, forcing him to come to the side of the stage and kneel. “My name is Amber Ross. I’m a reporter with the Daily Tribute.” He wasn’t the only one who could act.

  “Amber Ross?” His eyes sparkled, his smile widened and he jumped down from the stage. “You’re the feature writer over there, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. I’d read a few of her articles over the years so her name had been the first one to pop in my head. “I’m exploring a piece about how underfunded the arts are. Would you be able to talk to me for a few minutes?”