Chapter Eight
“How the hell did she get away?” Derrick half questioned, half demanded after hearing David’s unlikely story. “No one is faster than you.”
“I used to think so.” David sighed as he poured himself another drink at the kitchen bar. “This doesn’t make any sense.”
“I hate to throw another spanner in the works,” added Anna as she approached the brothers. “But according to Evan, Meaghan didn’t leave the estate all night.”
“Could you have been mistaken?” Derrick asked. “Maybe it wasn’t Meaghan.”
“No bloody way it wasn’t her.” David cursed. “She was wearing the same dress, the same shoes I left her in this evening.”
“Well, according to Evan. She was here in the kitchen borrowing some milk about five minutes before you got home. I doubt that she could have run home faster than you drove.”
David shook his head before swallowing another large gulp of his drink. “It doesn’t make sense, Derrick. How is she doing this?”
“I don’t know, but I think I’ve come up with a way to find out.” Derrick walked into the study, searched for something in his desk, and returned with a business card. “While you and Meaghan are at the University tomorrow night for your usual session, I’ll have camera’s installed in the cottage.”
“That seems a bit extreme,” David protested.
“Relax. I won’t have a camera installed in the bedroom or bathroom, only the living rooms and exterior of the cottage. That way we’ll see when she leaves.”
David nodded his agreement. There didn’t appear to be any other way of solving the mystery. Somehow, Meaghan had been able to be in two places at once. How was that even possible? He thought back to the night of the previous murder. The blonde hair, the daisy sandals. She’d been there too. His instincts had never forsaken him before and they screamed at him. She was somehow involved. His gut twisted. His chest ached. For the first time in his life, he wanted to be wrong. Could the love of his life be a murderer?
****
Meaghan waited on an uncomfortable wooden chair inside the small musty office, confident that using Evan as her alibi had successfully thrown David of her scent. She knew that beginning a sexual relationship with him was playing with fire as he still appeared to be the number one suspect in her case but he was so worth the burn. She physically ached for him and she knew that killer or no, she wouldn’t be able to resist him for much longer.
Last night, while he rubbed himself against her, his hands working their magic on her body, she had been close to asking him make love to her. She knew that the next time he posed naked for her, she would have trouble concentrating on anything besides how well she imagined they would fit together. Hadn’t he even insinuated their next lesson would involve sex? His words haunted her. “No, Chérie. In lesson two, I plan on there being no covering.”
She blew out a deep breath and fanned herself with her hand. You’re in deep shit, Meaghan. Last night’s patrol had complicated things further. This was the second time he’d caught her at the campus and she was sure that this time he’d recognized her. He would know that she was on to him and may question her about her presence at the campus after hours. The thought suddenly occurred to her. He was in no position to accuse. He had no excuse to be hanging around the empty campus at night, while she was there on duty. Unfortunately, she would have to keep that information to herself.
“Thanks for coming in, Megs.”
“I don’t mind,” she told her superior as he entered the room and took his seat behind the coffee stained desk. “I don’t know if my phone line is bugged so it is probably better this way.”
“So, what’s the skinny on this Corel guy?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Meaghan told him as she watched him flipping through some paperwork on his desk. “He seems clean but…”
“But what?”
“I don’t know, Terry. There is something secretive about him. He works in a windowless studio below a mansion. He poses as a nude model for my art class despite being a billionaire. I haven’t seen him outside in the daylight since I moved in a few days ago and every time I search the campus at night, he turns up. I saw him hovering over the second body.”
Terry looked up from his paperwork. “Did you see him kill her?”
“No.”
“That’s a shame. We can’t arrest him just for finding the body. When I questioned him last time, he had a perfectly legitimate alibi.”
“You know very well it’s easy to invent an alibi, Terry.” She stood up and paced the room. “I was forced to fabricate one myself for last night.”
“Did he believe you?”
“He had no choice. I made sure I was seen by his trusted butler.”
“Butler? Wow, you’re really living the life aren’t you? A big step up from our days at the orphanage.”
“I know. I feel guilty accepting his hospitality considering I’m there to find evidence to convict him. He seems like a really nice guy, Terry. His whole family is really nice.”
“That may be so but until we catch a killer, I want you to find out all you can about him but don’t put yourself into a situation where he could hurt you, capiché?”
“Yes, sir.” She made a mock salute and headed for the door, but stopping at the doorway she asked, “What do you make of the windowless rooms and only coming out at night?”
“I think you should be careful,” he said sternly, but his mouth twisted into a smile then he burst into a soft chuckle. “You’re probably living with a vampire.”
She flipped him off and left.
****
Meaghan hurried to meet David in the arts building at the pre-arranged time. Butterflies had taken flight in her stomach and she bit her bottom lip in anticipation of seeing him sprawled naked in the center of the classroom. Her smile faded when she noticed that his place on the platform was already occupied by another male. After their last encounter, she had steeled herself for her second lesson. One that he had insinuated would be in the nude. The new male model was indeed naked and rather good looking but not even in the same league as David. She set up her gear and waited for the teacher’s instructions, noticing that Lilith had taken up a permanent position across the room with the other Goth girl. Tonight they were joined by a male who also wore the obligatory black garb and makeup. The weird trio were discussing something that, by the looks on their faces, looked serious. She was still watching them when David walked up behind her, his cheek almost resting on hers when he whispered. “Are you ready for lesson two?”
“Here?” she stuttered, her body already reacting to proximity of his body.
“I have no idea what you mean.” He teased with a wink that was intended for her alone before he stepped into the middle of the room to address the whole class. “We will be working in oils today, class. I have taken the liberty of setting up a small range of colors on your easels, a small gift so you can continue to practice at home. Choose a flesh color from your palette and paint a rough outline of Mr. Moir. Don’t worry about the details, just work quickly to establish a base. You can add features and shades as you go. This will be an exercise on brush strokes and speed so you will not be judged on accuracy. If you get into difficulty, wave me over and I’ll be happy to assist.”
He walked in the opposite direction to Meaghan, leaving her confused and unsure of herself. He’d promised to teach her a lesson, insinuating one of a sexual nature but she had expected the lesson to be private. What is he playing at? Reluctantly, she located a tube of flesh colored oil paint and began working on her canvas although she had no idea if she was even using the correct brush. Her only experience with paints was watercolor pencils as art materials were expensive and her real job as an undercover cop paid only slightly more than her sham supermarket position. She jabbed at the canvas with her bristle brush hoping to get the paint onto the canvas as fast as possible in order to impress David. It didn’t work. Her brush strokes clumsy and messy.
“No, no, no.” David protested as he came up behind her and took the brush from her hand. “For a start, this is the wrong brush.” He exchanged the bristle for a sable brush and delicately dabbed it onto the palette. “Think of your brush as a tool.” He said as he put the brush in her hand and held her hand to the canvas. She could feel the hard muscles of his chest on her shoulders as he leaned over her, moving her hand like a marionette. Together they stroked the canvas.
“When you hold the tool, I want you to make slow, seductive movements like this…” he demonstrated downward movements, “the oil makes the paint slide easily, making your brush strokes more fluid.”
It took Meaghan only a few seconds to realize his double entendre. “Control the tool. Move your hand slowly up and down, adding linseed oil when your movements begin to catch. Ah, that’s good.” He pressed against her, his erection rubbing against the small of her back as he continued his play on words. “The tip is very sensitive. Use a featherlike touch for optimum effect. Pay careful attention to the reactions of the canvas. You will sense when to add oil and when you should apply more pressure. That’s very nice. You’re doing well … keep up the pressure … yes, yes … that’s it.” She heard his low, quiet groan and she gasped in response. “As the pressure builds, move faster, faster Meaghan … oh, that feels good doesn’t it.” His voice breathless, ragged as he moved her hand furiously over the canvas.
“Faster … until you can sense that the canvas is at the point where it can take no more, then … add a bit more for good measure.” David stopped abruptly. The painting finished. Meaghan could hardly believe what they had created in such a short amount of time. She stood admiring the work. Her body exhausted as though she had been put through a wringer. Damp heat soaked her dress. She shuddered when David asked her.
“Was that as good for you as it was for me?” He released her hand and whispered, “I know I will appreciate your continued practice of these techniques and you, in turn, will be rewarded for your efforts.”
By the time he left to finish his rounds of the class, Meaghan nipples felt hard enough to rip through the bodice of her dress.
****
David’s game of tormenting Meaghan backfired. He found himself uncomfortably aroused, his tight jeans strangling his erection. He excused himself and left the class to stand with his back against the wall in the empty corridor to compose himself and adjust the crotch of his jeans. It took every ounce of his resolve, not to run back into the room, throw Meaghan over his shoulder, and carry her to a secluded area where he could continue their “private” lessons. The pheromones she secreted left him in no doubt as to her own arousal and even blind Freddy could notice that her nipples peaked and strained against the cotton fabric of her dress. He shifted his position, tilting his head in order to peer into the classroom window. He expected to see Meaghan struggling with her own arousal but when he looked in the direction of her easel he gasped. She was gone.
In that same moment, a gust of wind blew down the corridor carrying the pungent smell of incense and a scent very familiar to him … blood. He ran towards the source of the smell. Was the murderer one of his kind? Worse still, a member of his coven? Either of those suggestions would be preferable to believing that Meaghan had something to do with the murders. As he turned the corner, he slipped. His supernaturally fast reflexes stopped him from falling in the slick red substance that covered the floor and spotted the walls of the laneway. Arterial spray. The victim a young male. His throat cut from ear to ear. Judging by the look of shock frozen on his face, David deduced that he had died quickly and his killer had been someone he had known.
There were no signs of struggle and—as it was the middle of the laneway with nowhere to hide—the killer didn’t have the element of surprise. With the exception of the burnt down black candles, this murder was different. While the first two murders had been by strangulation which alluded to a rage killing, this one had been fast, efficient and executed with confidence. Classes were still in progress so the killer knew that he could be discovered at any point but this did not deter him. Did the killer use a knife because the intended victim was male? He stroked his chin. Strangulation would have been difficult, had the killer been female or a small male. Judging by the quantity of blood on the ground, the victim had bled out. A vampire wouldn’t have wasted a drop of the precious substance. If there was one thing David knew without a doubt … this was the work of a human.