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Halfway to the Grave

Page 33

   


"Bones..."
He drank deeper, picking me up when my knees buckled. I went limp against him, shocked that every pull of his mouth felt better, until it seemed like I'd melted in his arms. Lost in the unexpected rapture.
My whole universe narrowed, encompassing only the thumping of my heart, steady panting, and the constant flow of blood connecting every part of me. I felt it like never before, understood how it was integral to each nerve ending, every cell, and contained the very essence of life. I willed it into him, wanting to fill him until he drowned in me. It seemed like I was weightless, floating, and then the warmth coating me turned to a flood of liquid heat.
Yes. Yes!
I didn't know if I said it out loud, because reality was gone. All I could feel was that heat coursing through me, growing stronger, until my blood seemed to boil with it. Then suddenly my senses roared back into clarity. The skin covering me seemed to burst, my blood boiled erotically, and the last thing I felt was Bones tightening his grip as he drank.
When my eyes opened, I was burrowed inside the blankets. Pale arms were wrapped around me, and somehow I knew it was much later despite there being no clock to check.
"Is it dark out?" I asked, instinctively feeling my neck. No bumps, only smooth skin. How amazing that there were no visible traces despite my whole body having residual tingles.
"Yes, it's dark now."
I turned to face him, gasping when his cold feet touched mine. "You're freezing!"
"You took all the covers again."
I glanced down at myself. I was cocooned in the entire comforter. Bones only had a few scraps of the blanket as he'd spooned around me. Guess he wasn't exaggerating.
I unwrapped myself and threw half the blanket over him, shivering as his chilled flesh touched my bare skin. "You undressed me while I was asleep? You didn't take advantage, did you?"
"No, I took precautions," he replied, searching my eyes. It was then that I noticed he was so tense, a single blow might have shattered him. "I stripped you and hid your clothes so if you woke up angry about what happened, you wouldn't be able to run out without talking to me first."
Here was a man who learned from experience. I almost smiled at the mental image of him hiding my clothes under various boulders. Then I sobered.
"I'm not angry. I wanted it, and it was-incredible. I didn't know it would be that way."
"I'm so glad to hear you say that," he whispered. "I love you, Kitten. I can't describe how much."
My heart exploded in my chest with a rush of feeling. Tears sprang to my eyes at the ache of emotion silently screaming to be voiced.
He saw the tears. "What's wrong?"
"You won't stop until you have all of me, will you? My body, my blood, my trust...and still you want more."
He knew of what I spoke and his reply was immediate.
"I want your heart the most. Above all else. You're exactly right, I won't stop until I have it."
Tears began to slide down my cheeks, because I couldn't hold the truth back anymore. I didn't know how I'd managed to hold it back this long. "You have it already. So now you can stop."
His whole body stilled. "You mean that?"
Uncertainty but also growing emotion filled his eyes as they bore into mine. I nodded, mouth too dry to speak.
"Say it. I need to hear the words. Tell me."
I licked my lips and cleared my throat. It took three times, but finally my voice returned.
"I love you, Bones."
A weight seemed to lift from me I hadn't known was there. Funny how much I'd feared something that shouldn't have frightened me at all.
"Again." He started to smile, and a beautiful, pure joy filled up the emptiness I'd carried my entire life.
"I love you."
He kissed my forehead, cheeks, eyelids, and chin, feather-soft brushes that had the impact of a locomotive.
"Once more." The request was muffled by his mouth on mine and I breathed the words into him.
"I love you."
Bones kissed me until my head reeled and everything tilted even though I was lying flat. He only paused long enough to whisper onto my lips, "It was well worth the wait."
Chapter Twenty-One
CATHERINE, YOU HAVEN'T BEEN HOME IN FOUR weeks. I know college keeps you busy, but you have to promise you'll come home for Christmas."
Guilt filled me as I switched the phone from one ear to another, waiting for my Pop-Tarts to come flying out of the toaster. The spring inside the machine usually sent them crashing out onto the counter.
"I told you, Mom, I'll be there for Christmas. But before then, I'll be very busy. I'm studying like mad. Exams are coming up."
That wasn't what had filled most of my time. Oh, I'd been studying, but not for college. No, Bones and I had been poring over any and all paper trails we could find to try and discover who Francesca had meant when she said someone "higher up" than a judge or a police chief. Considering it would have to be a person with authority over the police department, from all the missing or forged reports we'd uncovered, that left the mayor of Columbus as our most probable suspect. We'd been watching him. Tailing him, eavesdropping, checking his background, you name it. So far, nothing, but that didn't mean he wasn't just being careful. After all, we'd only been monitoring him for nine days.
"Are you still seeing Timmie? Please tell me you're using condoms."
I drew in a deep breath. I'd faced bloodthirsty monsters and been less nervous, but this was a discussion that had been put off long enough.
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. Why don't you come over this weekend? We...we can all sit down together."
"You're not pregnant, are you?" was her instant question.
"No." But when you hear this, you'll wish I was.
"All right, Catherine." She sounded less concerned, but still wary. "When?"
I swallowed hard. "Friday, seven o'clock?"
"Fine. I'll bring a pie."
And I'll grind up some Valium and put it in there, because you'll need it. "Okay. I'll see you then. I love you, Mom." Whether or not you'll decide to love me.
"Someone's at the door, Catherine. I have to go."
"Okay. 'Bye."
I hung up. Well, it was done. I'd tell Bones about it later when I saw him. Knowing him, he'd be pleased. Poor man didn't realize what he had coming.
About thirty minutes later a knock sounded at the door, startling me. Timmie was out of town visiting his mother. Bones had left before dawn in his usual routine, so that only left my landlord Mr. Josephs to be considered, especially since I'd just hung up with my mother. When I looked through the peephole to see who was outside, however, I didn't recognize the face. Either of them.
"Who is it?"
The vibe coming from the other side of the door was human, so I didn't grab for my stakes.
"Police. Detective Mansfield and Detective Black. Catherine Crawfield?"
Police? "Yes?" Still, I didn't open the door.
There was an uncomfortable pause. "Will you open the door, please, miss? We'd like to ask you a few questions."
The tone of voice didn't sound like he appreciated speaking through a wall. Frantically I kicked my stakes, always nearby just in case, under the couch.
"Just a second! I'm not dressed."
I put the remainder of my weapons into a suitcase and shoved them under the bed. I threw a robe over myself to complete the picture of hastily clothed, and opened the door.
The one who looked around fifty introduced himself as Detective Mansfield, and the younger one, perhaps in his mid-thirties, was Detective Black. Detective Mansfield handed me a card with his name and number printed on it. I took it, shook their hands, and glanced briefly at the badges they flashed at me.
"Those could be from Kmart and I wouldn't know the difference, so you'll excuse me if we just chat at the door."
My voice was cool but polite as I mentally sized them up. They didn't appear threatening, but looks were deceiving, and we knew Hennessey had goons in uniform on his side.
Detective Mansfield looked me over as well, and his eyes were probing. I hoped I looked like the poster child of the innocent college student.
"Miss Crawfield, if it would make you more comfortable, you can call the department and verify our badge numbers. We'd be willing to wait. Then we could come inside and not have to stand."
Nice try, but no cigar, fellas. "Oh, that's all right. What is this about? Was my truck broken into or something? There's been a lot of that going on at the campus."
"No, miss, we aren't here about your truck, but I bet you've got a good idea why we would want to talk to you, don't you?"
"No, I don't, and I don't appreciate the mystery, Detective."
Now my tone hardened a bit to let them know I wasn't a quivering mass of jelly. Like my intestines had become.
"Well, Catherine Crawfield, we don't like mysteries, either. Especially ones that involve murdered mothers and dug-up corpses. Do you know Felicity Summers?"
The name rang a distant bell, but damned if I was going to say that. "No, who is she? And what are you talking about? Is this a joke?"
My eyes widened a little, as would someone's who had never planted over a dozen bodies in the ground. When he said "dug-up corpses" I thought my knees would give out. Thankfully, though, I was ramrod-straight.
"She was a twenty-five-year-old mother who disappeared six years ago while visiting a friend. Her decomposed body was found eight weeks ago in Indiana by hunters. Yet her car, a navy 1998 Passat, was found at the bottom of Silver Lake in our area two weeks ago. Does any of this sound familiar to you?"
I knew who she was now, seeing the registration papers again in my mind the night I killed my first vampire. The same one who had taken me to Silver Lake in a lovely blue Passat. Motherfucker, they had found the car I dumped.
But I blinked at him in na?ve confusion and shook my head. "Why would any of that sound familiar to me? I've never even been to Indiana. How would I know that poor woman?"
That poor woman indeed. I knew better than these two smug pricks how she must have suffered.
"Why won't you let us come in, Miss Crawfield? Is there something you're hiding?"
Back to that again. They must not have a warrant, or they wouldn't be pushing so hard for the invite.
"I'll tell you why I won't let you in. Because you came to my door asking me about a dead woman like I should know something and I don't appreciate that." There. Arms folded across my chest for indignant effect.
Mansfield leaned in closer. "Okay, we'll play it your way. Do you know any reason why a headless corpse was buried a hundred yards from the shore where Mrs. Summers's car was found? Or why that corpse had been dead for nearly twenty years? I mean, why would someone dig up a corpse, chop its head off, put contemporary clothes on it, and then bury it next to the place where they dumped the victim's car, a state away from her body? Do you have any idea why someone would do that?"
Well, score one for Bones. He had been right that the first vampires I'd killed were young ones.
"I don't know why someone would do that. I don't know why people do many of the strange things they do in this world." That was certainly the truth. "But what I really don't know is why you're telling me all of this."
Mansfield let a mean little smile cross his face.
"Oh, you're good. Just a nice country girl from a small town, huh? You see, I happen to know better. I know, for example, that on the night of November twelfth, 2001, a man matching the description of Felicity Summers's kidnapper was seen leaving Club Galaxy with a tall, pretty young redhead. Driving in Felicity's 1998 navy Passat. We had an APB out on the Passat, and it was stopped in Columbus that night. For some reason, the officer got confused and let the suspect go, but not before calling in his plates. When Detective Black researched further, he also found out that on that same night, your grandfather called the police because you'd gone out and hadn't come home. Now is any of this coming back to you?"
It was like something on Court TV, only sickeningly real. "No, for the fifth time, none of this sounds familiar to me. So I snuck out late the same night a redhead left with someone who may have killed this woman? Does that mean because my hair is red I must be her?"
Mansfield folded his arms in a way that told me he had more to say. "If a hair color was all we had to go on, you'd be absolutely correct. Can't single you out just because your hair is red, right? But my new partner here"-a nod indicated Detective Black-"has been working overtime, and you know what he was able to piece together from a bogus assault report? You, Catherine. You were identified as the redhead leaving that night with Felicity Summers's kidnapper."
Motherfucker. How had they tied me to this? How?
"I don't know who your source is, but for someone to try and link me with this woman after six years is ridiculous. I was still in high school back then. Don't you find it a little weird that all of a sudden, now someone is coming forward to say I left with this person?"
Mansfield allowed himself a nasty sneer. "You know what I find weird? How a nice girl like you got mixed up in this. What are they, Satan worshippers? Is that why they dug up a corpse and then dressed it in contemporary clothes? Some kind of effigy? These strange bodies are turning up in more places than one, too. Another one was found not too far from here about ten days ago. That one was a woman, and she'd been dead almost a hundred years! Come on, Catherine. You know who's doing this. Tell us, and we can give you protection. But if you don't, you'll go down with them for accessory to murder, conspiracy, grave robbery, and kidnapping. Want to spend the rest of your life in jail? It's not worth it."