Chapter Five
Meaghan leaned on the wooden rail of the balcony and sighed. Why did he rush off like that? She was sure that he was about to kiss her. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips as he leaned towards her and she’d closed her eyes in anticipation. His hurried departure made her wonder if was all in her imagination. His slight accent convinced her that he was English and according to Mr. Nagle, he was well-travelled. Maybe he was merely being polite and about to offer her a friendly peck? She shook her head. Her experience with men may be limited but her intuition rarely led her astray and her instinct told her that he wanted more than a friendly goodnight kiss. He’d looked as though he’d wanted to whisk her into the bedroom. His hooded, “come to bed” eyes were beckoning, and his lips looked as if they’d devour her. Why did he suddenly change his mind? “Have a good night’s rest,” she mimicked as she carried her suitcases to the bedroom. Not bloody likely.
****
The ten-minute drive to the campus gave David time alone with his thoughts. He could easily have crossed the distance faster without the car but he couldn’t risk running into one of the teachers and explaining how he had travelled there on foot. Besides, the journey gave him the opportunity to compose himself. Meaghan would be working with him, living close enough to touch. The prospect equally terrifying and thrilling. After all these years of searching for her, he now found himself unable to think clearly around her and he discovered that being away from her was even worse than before. It took all his will power not to turn the car around and head home, but he knew that somewhere in the darkness of the almost empty campus, lurked a killer. It was his duty to stop him.
Light rain began to hit the windscreen and the car’s automatic windscreen wipers reacted as David turned into the car park. A few students ran for their cars, trying to beat the impending storm. He waited until they left before exiting his own vehicle, zipping his leather jacket closed. The gesture less to keep out the cold—as he no longer felt the bite of winter winds or the sting of rain—and more to protect his designer clothes. You really are a pretentious prick; he accused himself as he walked stealthily along the path leading to the art studios. He shook his head in disgust. Meaghan must have thought him arrogant and indulged when he informed her that art was more important than food. He inwardly cringed. How cavalier his statement would have sounded to a struggling artist. He had never known the pain of poverty and—thanks to his investments and inheritance—he likely never would. His statement tactless, but unintentional, merely stating a fact. Art was his passion. It was a hard habit to break and besides, he hadn’t lied. It was a no brainer choosing art materials over food. His body functioned perfectly well without food.
****
David smelled the blood before he even turned the corner. He ran towards the source, assessing the other smell. Blood and … what was the other fragrance? He recognized the two other scents as Bergamot & Black Pepper which seemed like a strange combination, especially in a musty University corridor. The reason became clear as he rounded the corner and accidentally kicked over a couple of large black candles.
As they fell, the candles extinguished, leaving the area cloaked in darkness which would have been a problem for someone without David’s keen eyesight. He, however, saw, not only the body of the young woman lying motionless on the ground, but also the macabre setting. Someone had taken their time after the murder to surround her body with Echinacea flowers. No need to feel for a pulse. He had seen enough dead humans in his long life to recognize death. Instead, he studied the area for other signs or scents, something that could help him discover the identity of the killer. Like the last victim, she had been strangled with bare hands. No claw or teeth marks to suggest a supernatural predator. Why the scent of blood? He inspected the area and discovered the dead body of a bird. The poor creature’s neck had been broken, the head barely held on by a small piece of sinew. Stranger still, the use of black candles and flowers implied a ritual sacrifice. Could there be satanic cults practicing in the area? He knelt down and studied the dead girl. She was dressed normally for a student, nothing to suggest her being a member of a group of devil worshippers. She didn’t appear to have been sexually assaulted unless the killer took the time to dress her after the assault. While searching for some form of identification, he sensed someone close. Someone in the bushes behind him. He turned quickly and caught a glimpse of blonde braids and daisy sandals before the woman disappeared into the night.
****
Don’t panic! Meaghan paced the living room floor of her new accommodation, wringing her hands and trying to think of a good reason to stay despite the horror of what she had seen. David was standing over a dead body. What was he doing at the campus in the middle of the night with that woman? There were no classes scheduled for tonight. He had no reason to be there unless … he was there to kill. Meaghan flopped into the nearest chair. Why this girl? Were they having an affair and she wanted to end it so he killed her? Maybe he wanted to end it and she wouldn’t accept it. You didn’t actually see him do anything, she reasoned with herself but doubt niggled in the back of her mind. If he wasn’t there to kill that woman, why was he there? Now let’s just think about this for a moment. There are at least a few rational scenarios. One … he just happened to be there picking up something he left in the storage room. Okay, that’s reasonable enough. Option Two … he gets rid of his old students by strangling them. Her hand shot to her throat as she considered, Oh, my god. I’m living with the Bluebeard of the art world.