Obsessed Page 15

  Leaning back against the back of the chair, I contemplated the options. I could pull up every damn intersection on Meridian, or I could...

  I needed to stop thinking about Laurel and listen to my gut.

  I hadn’t placed cameras in everyone’s home. I’d only set up auxiliary surveillance at the locations and of people relevant to Laurel.

  Where would a drunk man go—one who is involved in something he shouldn’t be—after a failed booty call?

  The answer was obvious.

  Cartwright went to another woman’s place.

  Whose?

  Laurel

  After my morning shower and dressing again in clothes that covered, well, everything, I opened the door to my bedroom, thoughts of yesterday morning’s encounter running through my mind. In our current situation it was nearly impossible to avoid Kader, and honestly, I didn’t want to. I simply wanted to avoid number four.

  The hallway all the way to the landing was clear, bathed in morning sunlight. Keeping my gaze focused on the large window over the door, I took a deep breath, steeled my shoulders, and exhaled. Repeating the process, I pushed myself forward, step by step, following the sunlit path.

  My unease was easily attributed to number four, but it probably also had something to do with my restless sleep and onslaught of childhood memories. They say that before you die you see your life flash before your eyes. Maybe that was what happened last night. My current death was not acute. It was chronic. I had time to see my life slowly, frame by frame. Last night I’d been a child.

  Would tonight bring me my teenage years?

  I didn’t want to think about it. In reality, during the night, I wanted morning to come. Now that it was here, I had visions of hiding under the covers and letting the day pass by.

  As I reached the bottom of the staircase, I stood and listened. There was nothing. Even though it was after eight in the morning, the house was quiet. Wandering into the kitchen, I found nothing. No coffee or breakfast, not even a protein bar and yogurt.

  Perhaps my status as guest had expired. It was time to make myself at home.

  It didn’t take long to find coffee mugs or bring the coffee maker to life. Adding a bit of cream, I secured the warm mug in my grip and began making my way toward Kader’s office.

  Stopping in the living room before the giant fireplace, I reconsidered. Maybe he was still upstairs. I’d left him in the kitchen last night after dinner.

  What if he were still asleep?

  Pushing forward I stopped outside the closed office door. As I lifted my fist, ready to rap my knuckles against the door, I gasped. The familiar voice coming from within caused my hands to tremble. The light brown liquid sloshed in the mug.

  Without knocking, I turned the knob and pushed the door inward.

  “R-Russ?” I asked, my voice shaky as I gripped the mug tighter.

  Kader looked up from the screen, his green gaze meeting mine, holding it. He didn’t look away as he did something on the keyboard silencing the soundtrack to whatever he’d been watching.

  I looked up at the illuminated large screen, seeing the hallway where I’d just entered.

  Back to Kader, I searched for answers.

  “I heard Russ’s voice.”

  Kader nodded as he stood. His hair was no longer secured, he was still wearing the same shirt as yesterday and more than likely, the same blue jeans. His facial hair was going on two days without trim, the scruff now softer.

  My lip slipped below my teeth as he stepped toward me and his exposed forearms came into view. Purples, teals, and greens created a twisted kaleidoscope of colors. I resisted my urge to step forward, take his hand in mine, and move the sleeves of his shirt higher over his biceps. For a split second, I imagined doing more, lifting the hem over his head.

  “Laurel, I told you to knock.”

  Blinking my eyes, my gaze moved back to his. “I-I...” I looked back at the open door and nodded. “I was going to. I-I didn’t expect...”

  Kader didn’t let me finish as he reached for my mug and took it from my grasp. Placing it on a nearby surface, he turned, seizing my shoulders and pulling me to him. My cheek came into contact with the soft shirt covering the hardness of his chest, as the beat of his heart rumbled in my ear.

  “What is it?” I asked, craning my neck upward.

  Kader nodded toward the mug he’d set down. “That’s a good idea. I was engrossed.” He nodded toward the big screen. “I didn’t see you come downstairs or realize the time.”

  I took a step back. “Did you sleep?”

  “Grab your coffee.”

  After I’d secured my mug, Kader reached for my other hand, his long fingers encasing mine as he tugged me toward the hallway. “Let’s go to the kitchen.”

  With each step, my mind filled with possibilities.

  What wasn’t he telling me?

  What had him engrossed?

  I set my coffee on the breakfast bar as Kader placed another mug within the coffee maker. As the machine roared back to life, he turned my direction, his arms crossed over his chest.

  I wasn’t certain if he didn’t realize that his ink was exposed or if he no longer cared. I hoped the latter yet feared that mentioning anything about the colorful mosaic before me would prompt him to lower his sleeves.

  “Did you sleep?” I asked again, willing myself to keep my eyes set on his.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “No, I never got around to it.”

  “You have to sleep.”

  Uncrossing his arms, Kader leaned back, gripping the edge of the counter at his sides. “Tell me about Cartwright,” Kader said.

  Lifting myself to one of the tall stools, I wrapped my fingers around the warm mug and looked down into the soft-brown liquid. “It was his voice...?” Through veiled lashes my eyes looked up from the coffee in my grasp. “...Answer me.”

  “Yes.” Kader replied, bringing his coffee to the breakfast bar and sitting around the corner from me.

  The bright sky filled the room with natural light. In the sunlit room, shadows formed under Kader’s eyes. His cheekbones appeared more prominent. Keeping his gaze on me, the muscles in his face tightened as his jaw clenched.

  “Cartwright,” he said again, bringing the mug to his lips.

  “I don’t know what you want,” I said. “He was a brilliant man.” Using the past tense caused my skin to bristle. “He was kind and could be funny.” A small smile came to my lips. “He had a dry sense of humor. Our—whatever we had—worked because we could talk about things with one another that we couldn’t discuss with others.”

  “Such as...”

  “Our work. That should be obvious. It was our bond.”

  “You said your mother knew there was more between you two than work.”

  It hadn’t been phrased as a question, but I nodded anyway.

  “How much more?”

  “What do you want?” I wasn’t certain where this conversation was supposed to go. “You said yourself he wanted to fuck me. Obviously, you know we were intimate.” My neck straightened. “I think there are too many things happening for this to be about jealousy.”

  “I’m not jealous,” he said matter-of-factly. “He’s dead, remember?”

  “Yes, I remember. Then what is this about?”

  “Were you exclusive?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Why do you care?”

  Ignoring my question, he asked, “And you were both good with that?”

  No longer able to sit, I stepped down from the stool and paced toward the counter. “I-I mean, yes.” I stopped near the stove, needing—no, wanting—to change the subject. “I could cook something for breakfast,” I offered. “Do you want anything?”

  “I want to find out who hired me and how Cartwright and Ms. Moore were involved.”

  I’d made it to the refrigerator and opened the doors before his answer stopped me. Spinning on my sock-covered heels, I narrowed my gaze. “What does Stephanie have to do with it?”


  Kader’s eyes closed as he bowed his head forward. Upon opening them, he released the mug in his grip and lowered his sleeves.

  “You know,” I said, “you don’t have to do that for my benefit.”

  Pivoting, I removed a container of fruit from the refrigerator and turning back, placed it on the island.

  “Laurel.”

  “You can argue with me all you want, but I think the colors are magical. I wish you’d let me see them closer.” When he didn’t protest, I went on. “Bright and intricate. How long did your sleeves take to do?” Warmth filled my cheeks as I felt pink climb up my neck as I confessed what I’d never said aloud. “I’ve always wanted to get one.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. That was part of why I haven’t.”

  “What do you want?”

  “You’ll think it’s stupid.”

  Kader stood and walked toward me. “Doc, you’re anything and everything.” His head shook, locks of his hair curving near his chin. “Stupid is not one of them.”

  “A colorful butterfly.” I shrugged. “See. Stupid. And common.”

  He ran his finger over my cheek.

  The coarseness of his touch caused my smile to grow.

  “If there was a butterfly on your flawless, soft, warm skin...” He grinned. “...it would be like no other. Not stupid and not common.”

  Did this personality have a number?

  I couldn’t remember. At the moment, I also wasn’t remembering our no-touching rule. Instead, I reached for his hand and turning it over in mine, I gazed at the pads of his fingers and ran my fingertip over them. “If you ever let me see what’s under that shirt, I believe I’ll see it the same way.”

  “Doc, it’s not—”

  “It’s unique.” Like you. I didn’t say the last part. Releasing his hand, I changed the subject. “Now tell me what you want to tell me, and I’ll cook some scrambled eggs and toast for us.” I peered his way. “Do you like eggs?”

  “Eggs are fine. See, that’s the thing. I don’t want to tell you.”

  As I gathered the ingredients, my thoughts went to Stephanie. She’d been my assistant for over two years. Basically overqualified for her position, she was a tremendous asset to our department. It wasn’t unusual for her to ask questions that led to discoveries.

  Kader was sitting back at the counter as I turned on the burner’s flame and sprayed the frying pan with cooking spray. “You know,” I said as I whipped the eggs and water in a separate bowl, “she could probably get a job with Sinclair if they negotiate the deal with the university.”

  “She?”

  “Stephanie. You brought her up.”

  He nodded. “You do realize there are currently two separate illegal attempts to sell your research and development and possibly one legal one.”

  After I poured the mixture into the pan, I turned. “I’m dead. Russ is...really gone. That article, what Damien Sinclair said...your employer won’t be happy. And what if someone paid for Russ to die?” The inflection of my voice made it a question. “It’s either the same person or someone else.” My heart was beating faster than a moment before. “Could Stephanie be in danger? What about Eric or even Sinclair?”

  Kader let out a long breath. “Everyone associated with your research will die. I guarantee.”

  The long plastic spoon I’d been using to stir the cooking eggs came to a stop. With my eyes wide, I twisted my body toward Kader. “Why would you say that? Will you...?”

  “No, not me. However, they all will because, Laurel, everyone dies. I didn’t say they’d be killed. They will die. It might be today or in fifty years. My point is that the survival rate of any one of those people isn’t your concern or mine. Besides, you have a lot of loyalty to people who didn’t share that quality.”

  I was still reeling from Kader’s declaration of everyone’s impending death. He was right, a little morbid but correct. I’d forgotten about the toast. Pushing the lever, I separated the eggs onto two plates and delivered them to our seats. As the toaster popped and I buttered each slice, his words replayed.

  Sitting, I asked, “Who?”

  “Who?”

  “Who didn’t share my loyalty?”

  “You and Cartwright weren’t exclusive?”

  “I told you that. On-again, off-again. We had an understanding.”

  “Did you know that your understanding included someone else with whom he could pillow talk?”

  I shook my head. “No, not about the compound. That’s what made us...” The fork I’d lifted went back to the plate as hurt and disappointment flooded my circulation, constricting my lungs until I gasped for air.

  Kader

  Laurel’s big blue eyes stared at me, the hurt from my discoveries spilling from her expression. Instinctively, I reached out, covering her hand with mine.

  Intellectually, I understood my inconsistent actions made no sense.

  Yesterday, I’d done my best to turn Laurel against me, to make her see me for who I am. And at the same time, I didn’t want her to turn away. I couldn’t recall experiencing jealousy. Coveting something wasn’t my style. Money was no object. If I wanted something, I bought it. And yet watching her interact with Cartwright brought about emotions I could only describe as possessive. I hated the idea of her with Cartwright.

  It wasn’t that I had claims to this woman, hadn’t tried to turn her away multiple times, and even continued to tell myself to get rid of her. While that was all factual, still with each passing minute, each glance of her sapphire-blue eyes or flash of beautiful smile, I wanted what my mind told me I couldn’t have—what I didn’t deserve.

  I was perfectly all right with the knowledge that Cartwright had taken advantage of their non-exclusive clause. I wasn’t fine with the way the news hit Laurel.

  Looking down at where we were touching, Laurel pulled her hand away as her shoulders straightened. With her dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail, I could see the way her neck strained as she swallowed. “Stephanie?” she finally asked.

  I nodded.

  “How long has it been happening?”

  “I don’t know. I could only go back as long as I’ve been on this case.”

  Her head tilted. “How long has that been?”

  “I accepted it nearly a month ago. The first week was reconnaissance—going to Indianapolis, learning about you, your compound, the players in your life. Oh, and making that pit livable.”

  The last part brought back her smile if for only a moment. “If that was livable, I can’t imagine how it started.”

  “You don’t want to. I didn’t get cameras set up at various locations until maybe two weeks before the gathering. The secure email had already been sent.”

  The wheels were turning as Laurel was thinking back. “So how many times...” She shook her head. “No, I don’t want to know.”

  “On my surveillance, Stephanie never went to his apartment. I would have noticed that. The night after the gathering, after he left your house, he went to hers.” When Laurel didn’t respond, I added. “He was there until morning, leaving after he received the call from Olsen.” I swallowed, unsure if I should give her the last bit of information.

  Laurel’s eyes opened wider. “I called her early that morning.”

  I didn’t need to tell her. She was placing the pieces.

  Nodding, I pressed my lips together.

  “He was there...with her? They were together?” Her voice cracked with emotion.

  “I didn’t have cameras inside her place, just watching the outside.” I shrugged. “Maybe he slept on the couch.”

  “And then we met at the coffee shop...” She lifted her fork and took a bite. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. We weren’t exclusive. I don’t want to talk about him or them.” Quickly, she finished the scrambled eggs and fruit she had on her plate before standing. “Should I feel bad that she doesn’t know the truth? That she thinks he and I ran off?”

  “Do you?
” I asked.

  “Not really.” Laurel placed the plate in the sink. Spinning, she slapped her hand over her thigh as her head shook. “Right in front of me.”

  I carried my emptied plate to the sink. Once my hands were free, I reached for Laurel’s waist. My fingers spread as I pulled her to me. Her small hands landed on the sleeves covering my forearms.

  “We’re touching,” she said, as if I was unaware.

  Instead of responding, I brought her hips to mine. “He was a fool. Now he’s a dead fool. It makes me wish I had been the one to kill him.”

  Laurel’s lips curled as she leaned back and peered upward. “I knew you didn’t do it.”

  I shrugged. “I still haven’t lied to you.”

  “You meant all those things you said yesterday morning?”

  “Not one fucking word. Each phrase began with maybe or perhaps.”

  Her head began to bob. “You’re right. At the time, I...it doesn’t matter. I didn’t believe you.”

  “I hate that this discovery has upset you,” I said. “I debated if I should tell you about the two of them.”

  “No, Kader, you need to tell me everything. I mean, if they did pillow talk...” She sighed before steeling her neck and shoulders. “...Stephanie could have written that first email. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Maybe she was using Russ to profit from our compound.”

  “Or they were working together,” I offered.

  “I know it’s stupid that I want to believe he wasn’t involved.” Her head tilted. “This may sound like a jealous lover and maybe it is, but now that I think about it, there were a few different times when...” Her words trailed away as if following her faraway expression.

  “What?”

  Her slender shoulder shrugged. “During the day...Russell would leave the fifth floor to go...different places, like the facility where our limited clinical trials were occurring. Yet sometimes he was difficult to reach. I don’t know. He’d leave and Stephanie would be out on errands, or she’d be out and he’d disappear. I never thought about it before.”

  “Were they gone long enough to go to either one of their places?”