Chapter 16.

Cole's deep-set eyes, with their unusual slant still caught her off guard as he glared at her from his seat in the police chief's office. Her breath lodge d in her throat as the too small office seemed to close in on her. She had to be insane. When John McCray had called, at first she thought to tell him no, that she would no longer work with Cole Kincaid. But she decided to put asid e personal feelings; this was work and Laurie meant to have the exclusive, ea rning her the right to be called a journalist.

Now, here she stood, reevaluating her earlier a.s.sessment. She never dreamed it would be this hard to be in the same room with Cole, not while the emot ional wounds were still fresh. But she was not about to show her weakness, tuck her tail between her legs, and run the opposite way.

Instead, she cleared her throat, closed the door, and took a seat besid e the object of her despair. Cole continued to glare at her, not saying a word.

As though she were the one at fault .

"I hope I'm not too early." Laurie directed her statement at John, not wishin g to converse with Cole at all. With luck, maybe this could be taken care of here, in the chief's office. "You did say three o'clock?"

"Right on time, Miss Michaels." The chief grinned. His large size should ha ve been intimidating, and had he worn an expression to match, would surely send the most hardened criminals fleeing. But as it was, he made her feel c omfortable and safe in his presence. "I was just discussing with Lieutenant Kincaid the benefits of working with the press on this case."

"I think everyone would benefit, sir." Laurie straightened her spine and lifte d her chin.

"Please, call me John." He glanced at Cole then at her. "The Lieutenant has agreed to give you an exclusive-providing you print things the way we see them. No ad-libbing on your part. Is this agreeable to you?"

"To a point, I don't have a problem with that, not unless the lieutenant doe s. But I do request that I am allowed my own creativity." Laurie clenched her teeth, tightening her jaw as she continued to look straight ahead. As of y et, Cole had not one word to say, nor did he look in her direction, though, for obvious reasons, she surely didn't want his attention at the moment. At any given time, her courage might fail and out the door she would run.

"We don't want to keep you from writing a good piece, though the finished copy must be agreed upon by the lieutenant. Cole?"

"No problems, Chief." His clipped tone sliced the air like a straight razor, a dding further tension to the room.

"Well, then, the two of you can go back to Cole's office and get this thing tak en care of. I'd like to be able to read this in tomorrow's paper. I've also see n to it that the Plain Dealer will print your piece."

Laurie's gaze caught John's as her heart picked up its pace. This would gi ve her a large portion of Northeast Ohio coverage. "How did you manage-"

"When I told them the situation and how I had already chosen the reporter for the job, they agreed to do things my way." John sat back in his chair and fo r the first time since stepping into the office, Laurie wondered about friend s in high places. "I called in a few favors."

Her gaze traveled about the room, noting the pictures on the wall. One part icular photo caught her attention; John McCray was shaking hands with Presi dent Clinton. Had the chief wanted anything done, Laurie doubted that it wo uld be a stretch. For him, nothing seemed out of reach.

"What are you two wasting my time for?" John grumbled with a slight curve o f his lips. "Get on it. We're wasting the taxpayers' money, not to mention time. Cole has a case to solve."

"Right away, Chief," Cole grumbled as he opened the door and left the office , not turning back to see if Laurie followed.

"I thought the two of you seemed to get along well enough when we did the l ast piece. Cole was even the one who had picked you for the job. I don't kn ow what has happened between the two of you, but get over it. Don't make me regret my decision to let you write this piece," John said, narrowing his gaze at her. His eyes held questions Laurie was not about to answer.

"No, sir, I won't." Laurie stood. "We had a minor disagreement. Nothing that can't be settled."

"Good-that's what I want to hear."

Laurie walked down the narrow corridor to the last door on the left. Her he art lay in her stomach like lumpy oatmeal. The only way to make the best of the situation, and not allow Cole to see the depth of her wounds, was to c oncentrate solely on the job before them. A story begged to be written. And the sooner they finished it, the sooner they could part company.

Stepping into the opened doorway, Laurie watched Cole behind his desk leaf t hrough the papers scattering its surface. She wanted nothing more than to sl am the door, surely getting his attention and watch him react. But she resisted the desire, knowing how it would also attract the notice of everyone els e in the station.

Laurie closed the door quietly, took the seat opposite the desk, and waited fo r him to say something, anything. Her heart beat so loudly in her chest, she s wore he could hear it above the constant tick of his clock on the wall, the on ly thing to decorate its surface.

Grasping her pen and pad, she spoke first. "Aren't you supposed to give me an exclusive or something?"

Cole looked up from his work and their eyes locked. Her breath lodged in he r throat as she stared into his haunted eyes. Surely, he would not be feeli ng remorse over what he had done to her.

"Look-"

"You look, Lieutenant," Laurie stopped him from telling her it had been nic e, but....

She highly doubted she could endure his entire planned speech and not lose dig nity. Surely she would burst into tears at the first mention of his total disr egard for her.

"We're here to discuss this case and that's it. What do you have for me? The sooner we get this over with, the more comfortable we both will be." That s aid, Laurie put the end of her pen against her lip and waited for him to say something.

Cole looked across the desk at the alluring woman. Even within the confines o f his office, his job, he could not keep his desire for her from getting in t he way. Cole exhaled, shifted in his seat, and stared at the pen resting tant alizingly against her lower lip. Memories of the other night rushed back in f ull force, though they were never far from the surface to begin with.

"If that's what you want, Miss Michaels," Cole stated. He returned his attent ion to the papers before him, keeping the pictures of the crime scene secured beneath the manila file folders. There was no reason to expose her to the br utality.

"Lieutenant, I came here for a story. As soon as I have it-I'll be out of y our way and you'll be able to conduct your search for this madman. Now," sh e tapped the record b.u.t.ton on her micro-ca.s.sette and placed her pen on the paper, "what do you have for me?"

Cole sighed heavily. Laurie was not about to give him an inch, making him fee l even more the jerk for walking out. Maybe this would be all for the better.

After all, he did not want her or a relationship.

"This is going to take a lot of the creativity you spoke about in the chief's of fice earlier. Are you up for it?"

"Give me what you've got and I'll create one heck of a story for you." The f ake smile she pasted on her cinnamon lips did not fool Cole for a minute. "You were partly correct in the piece you wrote the other day," he said, lean ing back on his chair, taking a sip of coffee from his Styrofoam cup.

"Which part?"

"Not the part about the detectives," he grumbled, earning him a genuine sm ile. "About the three murders being connected."

"I guess I have good intuition then."

"Careful, Laurie. Don't let your intuition get you into trouble." Cole took another sip from his coffee. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners? Would you l ike a cup?"

"I've had all the coffee I can take for one day. Now, tell me about these murderers, Lieutenant. How do you know these cases are linked? What eviden ce supports your theory?"

"It's no theory," he said confidently. "The man who killed Shana Darby, also killed the other two victims."

"And you know this because..." She waited patiently for him to fill in the b lanks, her eyes wide and innocent. G.o.d, he didn't want her to see the blackn ess of the world and take away her purity of heart.

"Because the wounds inflicted were of the same nature as shown by the auto psy."

"The weapon?"

"Is not up for discussion. I don't want my perp changing weapons. Next que stion?"

"How did these women die?"

"Cause of death was due to the extreme loss of blood."

Laurie glanced at him, anger flashing in her warm brown eyes, nearly causi ng Cole to chuckle. "Meaning?"

"Their throats were slit, Laurie."

"How can you be so sure this is the work of the same man? Seems like a common enough wound."

"There were no hesitation wounds, ruling out suicide, and there were no def ense wounds found, ruling out a struggle. These victims were all prost.i.tute s and at this point we are a.s.suming they had picked this man up."

"Can you be absolutely sure?"

"All evidence we have points to this. Our perp has an extreme desire for blo od."

Laurie's gaze narrowed as a look of disgust turned down her mouth. "And how do you know this?"

"Let's just say, we have strong evidence that says this son of a b.i.t.c.h is drinki ng it."

"Oh, G.o.d! Am I allowed to print that?" Laurie's voice raised an octave, certa inly excited over the first piece of real evidence she had been given.

"You may print that." "Last time I interviewed you, you told me you didn't want to portray thi s man as a monster, giving me the reason you wanted him to open up once you found him. Why have you changed your mind?"

"Let me just say, the chief changed it for me. We're going to play the twiste d fu...uh...man's game."

"So we have a real live vampire on our hands-a Bram Stoker's Dracula . The headline will read 'Vampire-"

The last part of her statement caught his attention. "What did you say?"

"Which part?"

"Bram Stoker's Dracula ," he repeated, not really needing her to. He had no idea why the name of the book struck a chord, but he had always followed h is instincts. And this time, it was telling him to read. Could 'BS' stand f or Bram Stoker? "Do you have a copy of that book?"

"No." She chuckled. "Why?"

"I've suddenly had the urge to read it."

"I'm sure the library has one. Got a card, Lieutenant?" she asked sarcasticall y.

Not paying her any mind, Cole tapped the intercom and a secretary's voice came through. "Sir?"

"Send someone to the library and pick me up a copy of Bram Stoker's Dracul a ," Cole said as he held down the b.u.t.ton.

"Right away, Lieutenant," the voice called back and the air once again dead ened.

Turning back to Laurie, he asked, "Any more questions?"

"Have you identified all three victims? The press has only been released on e name so far; Shana Darby."

"Forensics have yet to identify the first victim with the backlog of cases they have. Identification through them and VICAP, Violent Criminal Apprehen sion Program, which also helps aid in the search of missing persons, could take a year. The last victim's family has also been contacted. She, too, wa s a prost.i.tute, but worked out of a room here in Fairview at the Cleveland Motel. She was the oldest of the three victims. Mary Stine was twenty-two y ears old." Noting the odd look on her face, he asked, "Is there something w rong, Miss Michaels?"

Laurie shrugged her shoulders and glanced out the window behind him. "I wa s just thinking that Miss Stine was my age."

Cole looked at Laurie, and, affected by her spoken concern, voiced his own t houghts aloud. "That's not all, Laurie, they also had your hair and eye colo ring."

Her gaze snapped back to his, her brows drawing together. A small amount of alarm registered in the depths of her eyes. "Are you trying to tell me som ething, Lieutenant?" she asked, her tone unfriendly. "Just that you should be careful, lock your doors." He didn't want to tell he r of his concern over her welfare. h.e.l.l, that was as good as admitting he had feelings for her. And he surely could not do that.

Laurie slapped the cover down on her pad, stuck the pen in her pocket book a nd hit the off b.u.t.ton on her tape recorder. She stood up. "Is there anything else you want me to print?"

"No, but when you're finished, I'll need to proofread it before it's sent to co py."

He did not like the look in her eyes or how the temperature in the room had just dropped twenty degrees.

"You'll get a copy," she said, her voice cool enough to freeze water. "I'll fax it as soon as it's finished."

Laurie turned and exited the office. Cole watched how stiffly she carried he rself as she walked down the hall and turned the corner: gone was the slight sway of her hips. He swore beneath his breath. He did not want to care.

Jumping up from his desk, he trotted off in the direction she had taken, roun ded the corner, and exited the station. Laurie stood at the corner of the sid ewalk, waiting for the sign to tell her to walk. The nearest car was at least a block away, but Cole thought it just like her to wait for the signal. He c aught up to her easily, grasping her arm just as the sign turned to WALK and she began to step off the curb.

Laurie jerked her arm free of his grasp. "Don't touch me!" she shouted, tears filling her eyes.

"Laurie-"

"You made it quite obvious the other night you didn't want anything else fr om me. Now I'm telling you what I want. Stay the h.e.l.l away from me. I don't need you in my life. And I sure don't want to be in yours."

Without another word, she stepped from the corner and onto the street, joggin g off to the red Acura parked across the road. Cole watched as her car pulled into traffic and sped off; the hole in his heart apparent by the ache her cu tting words left there.

A tiny drop of blood welled to the surface as the small cut began to bleed. W ith pressure on both sides of the fresh wound, the fluid began to flow more e asily as a drop escaped and fell to the floor.

He held the thin finger in his hand and watched her gaze as she looked at him in awe. Then slowly, without taking his eyes from hers, he brought the injured digit to his mouth and suckled. Where the taste for blood had com e from, he would never know. Maybe, just maybe, he had been born with it.

The draw had not been s.e.xual, for that was not what he needed for stimulat ion or for his blood to flow and cause an erection. A simple woman could d o as much. But the taste of it was euphoric and a pleasure he refused to deny. Why should he have to when so many were willing to supply what he cra ved?

Damien looked into the eyes of the tiny blonde as she squirmed and giggled, his lips still wrapped around her finger.

"It tickles, Damien," Cindy said, as her eyes held fast to his mouth.

Damien let go of her hand, then placed the small pocketknife on the table be side him and drew her into his arms, looking down on her. "You are about as sweet as they come," he said before his lips lay claim to hers.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him tight as though she were afr aid at any moment he would turn and flee. At the moment, Cindy VanWarren w as safe enough; his attentions were not about to stray. But had Laurie Mic haels even looked in his direction, Cindy would be no more than a fleeting thought. After all, he preferred brunettes.

Releasing her, he patted Cindy on the behind and smiled at her. "I have a set to play," he told her.

"Do hurry." She returned his grin, her eyes holding the promise of a s.e.xual seduction. At least Cindy could do something to keep his mind preoccupied; one thing she was good at. "Then, we can go back to your place."