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Chapter 30.
Laurie slowly opened her eyes, blinking them into focus. Her head pounded, ears rang, and everything around her seemed red. Every muscle ached from lying on the cool cement. She pushed up to a sitting position and glanced at her environment as she rubbed the gooseflesh from the surface of her ar ms.
Panic seized her heart.
The walls surrounding her were painted red; the room no larger than the size of a prison cell. Laurie imagined had she died and gone to h.e.l.l, it would h ave looked similar to this. Her heart thumped against her ribs, reminding he r of her mortality.
She stood on shaken limbs and glanced around. No windows, no pictures on the walls. Just a single bare bulb, suspended from the ceiling by a black elect rical wire, illuminated the room. An oak-carved stand sat in the center, ado rned with many unlit candles and a silver cup. Tool marks, looking to belong to a knife, marred its surface. A small box lay on the floor beside it. Oth er than the table that appeared to be an altar of some sort, the room was em pty sans the reddish-brown stains on the floor.
Laurie looked down, noting she still wore the same outfit she had on since ...When? The night before? She had no idea how long she had been out or ho w much time had pa.s.sed. Without the benefit of windows, she had no idea if it were daytime or nighttime.
She walked to the door and tested the k.n.o.b. Locked. Not that she expected to find it any other way. Turning back to the red walls, she leaned against th e wooden door and glanced at the floor in defeat. For the first time she rea lized what the reddish-brown stains meant.
Blood.
The room seemed to tilt; her breathing became shallow. How many of the wom en had died in this room? She covered her mouth and swallowed, hoping to s till the rising bile burning the back of her throat.
Laurie, unfortunately for her, had been dumped into the crime scene. And she would bet, if they tested the stains on the floor, they would match at least one of the four victims.
She chuckled, though she felt none of the humor. What a story she had stu mbled upon. Laurie even knew the murderer's name.
The air in the room constricted, hampering her breathing even further. It f elt as though someone had grabbed hold of each lung and squeezed the oxygen from them, then held tight, not allowing them to refill with air. She was about to become victim five. Tears welled in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks as she reminded herself to breathe or she'd pa.s.s out cold on the flo or again.
Laurie slid down the wall to a crouching position and placed her head betwe en her knees. She would not make this easy for him. He would not find her u nconscious-easy to control or to kill. With a survivor's instincts, she would fight him to the deadly end.
Her hands trembled. Her legs shook.
She sank the rest of the way to the floor and grasped the hair at the top of h er head, tightly within her fists. How in the world would she ever get out of this one?
Surely, by now, Cole had found her home empty.
She had no way of knowing, though, if Cole would be aware of the events tha t had taken place. Sandy could have cleaned up after the spilled roses and locked the house behind them. After all, she had been out cold.
Cole would know Laurie would not have just taken off on a whim of her own, not with a murderer targeting her as his next victim. Or would he? She had always portrayed herself as being strong and it was possible, even after th e pa.s.sion they shared, Cole would believe that the only thing that mattered to her was getting the story.
"Dear G.o.d," she cried out to the Creator, her words echoing eerily off the wa lls, "please let Cole find me."
After a short prayer, she made the sign of the cross over her chest then glan ced up and noted the wooden box lying at the base of the stand like an offeri ng. Laurie crawled over to the object, terror ringing within her ears. She fe ared lifting the cover and finding something nefarious like a tongue or an ea r, though none of the victims were ever found mutilated.
The lid fell easily away.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Her world seemed to careen as she grasped the table's leg to steady herself.
One s.h.i.+ny gold hoop, her missing earring, and her Mont Blanc lay amongst th e collected articles from four other victims.
Sandy Brown had been stalking her. She thought about the night she ran to the Convenient Mart for a bottle of Advil. She doubted now it had been a c oincidence running into him. Or the time, too, she had been at Pugz and Ba iley's with Cindy and had lost her earring. Cindy and she had run into Dam ien...Sandy had been there also, though at the time she had not realized w hom he was.
Two driver's licenses belonging to a Jill Anderson and to Mayor Stanton's d aughter, Victoria, lay within the container along side a thin silver chain bearing a crucifix and a gold band adorned with diamonds and pearls. Laurie remembered hearing about Shana Darby's missing ring.
She picked it up.
A chill ran down her spine.
A flash of the lovely young girl's face played before her eyes. Shana's eyes widened in fear as a blade came from behind, flashed in the dim lighting, a nd sliced through her jugular.
Her time had come to its end. Shana's hands went to her throat as the wound made a deathly whoos.h.i.+ng sou nd from the sudden exit of air expelling from her lungs as she attempted t o gasp for oxygen.
Laurie's body racked with shudders.
She dropped the ring into the box. She didn't want to feel Shana's last thou ghts a moment longer. The temperature in the room dropped unnaturally as she replaced the lid and slid the box back to its place.
The door to the room swung open.
A cool breeze shot through the closed s.p.a.ce like the cold icy winds of the An tarctic.
Laurie squealed as she jumped to her feet and backed herself against the wal l, trying to put distance-all eight feet of it-between her and Sandy Brown.
His cold, dead eyes were without conscience as he approached her, a thin smi le upon his lips.
Fear twisted in her gut. Gone was the will to fight. She could not lift a limb had she wanted to as she stared into his unfeeling eyes.
"What do you want from me?" she whispered.
He stopped in front of the small stand. His eyes took in the chalice, the can dles, the box. "You've looked?" he asked.
She nodded, unable to speak, to lie, though at the moment he wasn't looking at her at all. Her body numbed.
His gaze returned to hers. She expected anger for glancing upon something that belonged to him. But his eyes remained placid, without emotion.
He shrugged. "I like to remember," he said with conviction. He bent before th e box and lifted the lid.
Laurie spotted the still open door. Eight feet to freedom.
She inched along the wall as his fingers toyed with the articles in the box, t aking his time to lovingly caress each item. Laurie wondered if he, too, could feel the fear of the girls as he relived every detail of their murders in his twisted mind.
She moved a foot further. Sandy remained immobile, paying her no regard. As far as she knew, he had not even detected she was aware of her route to es cape or the fact he had left the door open.
Blackness awaited on the other side.
Laurie inhaled a deep breath, pushed off the wall, and bolted for the door.
Panic seized Cole's chest as he looked about Laurie's home. Red roses lay sc attered about the white tiles like a bloodied offering. A symbol of perfecti on, a flower in its purest form, and the color of the fluid Sandy craved. Th e rest of the house remained untouched.
Thus far, they had turned up only trace evidence. Black fibers had stuck to the bleeding neck wound of Detective Gonzales and could be a possible match to those found at the other scenes.
Jesse had had not a chance, never saw it coming.
The blood spatter patterns on the window told them the story. Sandy Brown had approached from behind and grasped him through the opened window of the car and sliced him cleanly through the arteries and beyond, nearly de capitating him.
A boot print, found in the flowerbed, became another piece of invaluable ev idence, as Sandy had peered into one of the family room's windows, to see i f Laurie was alone. He had been careful, though, not to allow detection by the officer scouting the rear of the home.
What looked like blood contaminated the stems of a few of the roses, but who se was yet to be determined. They, too, would be sent off to the lab for ana lysis.
"d.a.m.n," Cole cursed the black night as he struck the wall with his fist, leav ing a hole in the wake of his anger.
Zeke poked his tiny head around the corner, then bolted up the stairwell, a s though he, too, knew the wrongness of what had occurred here.
He rubbed his sore hand as Officer Cooper approached.
"Jesse Gonzales is on his way to the Coroner's. I'd stake my badge on it t hat he was killed by the same weapon used on the women," Frank said, glanc ing at Cole's already swelling knuckles. "What the h.e.l.l happened to your h and?"
"You'll find my imprint in the plaster in there," Cole said, pointing to th e foyer, then headed for his truck. "Finish the scene here, Cooper, question the neighbors. Somebody had to see something. Send Casey over to the corone r's office to witness the autopsy of Detective Gonzales. Then, take care of her dog, Zeke. You'll find him upstairs in the yellow bedroom. I have to fin d Laurie."
"Where the h.e.l.l are you going to start?"
Cole shrugged as he got into the cab. "I have no d.a.m.n idea. But if I don't fi nd her soon, I'm afraid she won't see daylight again."
Cole stuck the key into the ignition and as soon as the engine turned over, h e circled the drive and drove off down the road.
She was somewhere out there...alive. He could feel her fear, taste it. Sweat broke out on his brow; his stomach knotted.
Dear G.o.d in heaven, it was happening all over again. Someone wanted to ta ke away the one thing he loved more than his own life and there wasn't a d.a.m.n thing he could do about it. Jeanne Kincaid died because of his negli gence. Now Laurie Michaels was about to meet the same fate-because she ha d the misfortune of becoming involved with Cole.
The world suddenly seemed enormous. There were thousands of places Sandy could have taken Laurie. And he had no idea where to begin. Damien mentioned a warehouse. Cole knew there were none in Fairview, but C leveland had an abundance of buildings, both vacant and occupied. Without thought, Cole headed up Lorain Road. The Flats was as good a place as any to start his search. Not only did bars line the river, but it also carried the reputation as the warehouse section of Cleveland.
Darkness consumed Laurie.
She had made it beyond the door with no time to allow her eyes to adjust to t he light change. Holding her hands out in front of her, she ran blindly.
Fate, thus far, had been on her side.
Certainly, G.o.d would not fail her now, not when she needed him most.
A curse followed her as Sandy dropped the box to the floor, the sound filling the room behind her like a litany, as he took chase.
Oh, G.o.d . Her heart thudded in her chest; her pulse pounded in her ears. Pani c took her soul hostage as she spotted the outline of the door to the elevato r ahead.
A few more steps to freedom .
Her shoe caught in the folds of a hastily laid carpet, sending her sprawling h eadfirst onto the floor. Her fingers clawed at the rough material as she despe rately endeavored to get to her feet.
Sandy tackled her back to the cement, sending the air from her chest in a d eep whoosh.
As she attempted to regain her breath, she could feel Sandy's anger in his t aut, forceful movements as he flipped her over. She doubted now, had she the luxury of light, his eyes would appear dead. Instead, they would be the mir rors of his soul, alive with burning emotion. Anger and hate would fairly ra diate to the cores.
She thanked the stars for darkness.
"Please," she pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks to pool in her ears.
"Don't hurt me."
"Hurt you?" Sandy laughed. The sound carried through the empty air and echo ed off the walls. Chills raked her spine; gooseflesh popped out across her skin. Never had anything sounded so ill fated.
Images of the dead girls flashed before her eyes as though touching Sandy ena bled her to see and feel them as he stole their lives.
"No," cried Laurie, her feet and arms flailing. Sandy pinned her to the floo r. His super-human strength rendered her inert. "G.o.d, no," she whispered.
Her struggles seemed to heighten his awareness of their lecherous position as she felt his erection within the confines of his jeans against her thigh. Te ars continued to swell in her eyes and fall down her cheeks.
"My dear, your beauty is beyond words, have I not proven that to you?" His s tale breath sent her gulping for fresh air as the bile in her stomach churned and threatened to spill. "The others paled in comparison. I had to take th eir lives. They were tainted, dirty. But you..."
Laurie hoped by keeping him talking that it might buy her time. Maybe, with G.o.d on her side, Cole would be able to find her before her time had run ou t.
"They weren't all prost.i.tutes. Why Victoria?" Her voice trembled giving way t o her near hysteria. Laurie tried to intake a deep breath, but failed as Sand y's bulk on top of her hindered her actions.
Sandy s.h.i.+fted his weight. The carpet did little to soften the cement beneath it. Her tailbone ached, her shoulder blades hurt, and her pelvis felt as thou gh the slightest move might crush the bone into tiny shards.
"Victoria is your fault," he hissed.
She had struck a raw nerve.
He blamed her?
His malice-filled chuckle mocked at her misunderstanding. "You wrote the a rticle. Vampire indeed."
"But you drank their..." Her body s.h.i.+vered beneath him, unable to voice the word.
"Blood?" he asked, his tone rising. "' Blood is the life ,' Bram Stoker so wisel y put it. I require it to exist."
"So you do think you're a vampire?"
Again he chuckled, ridiculing her for her stupidity. "A fiend of the night i s immortal. Shoot me where I lay and I bleed like the rest. What I have, my dear, is an extreme thirst for blood. If your body is low on calcium-you cra ve milk. If you are an alcoholic-you can't stop thinking about you're next d rink. Me? I crave blood."
"So you think you can't survive without it?"