Streetwalker by K. E. Ward - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

Chapter Eight

 

That was the biggest mystery of the night. But soon, there were more of them and also firemen. The police went around from person to person and asked if they had seen anything suspicious. They took down each person’s name and promised to call them if they needed anything further. Garrett then kindly asked one of the officers if they could leave. He nodded sharply, not saying a word.

Maggie was shaken when they reached the car. The cold air was no more merciful than it was when they had first reached the club, and the low temperature did little to calm her shocked limbs. It was too much excitement for one night, she thought. I cannot do this again. First it was Darlene’s death, then someone following me on the streets, and now this. But there was more to it than that. The sliver of doubt about Garrett’s innocence would not go away, even after tonight. But if it was true that all three incidents were connected, and that Garrett was the one behind it all, then how could that possibly be? Garrett was sitting right next to her when she noticed the fire that had started. What she couldn’t get over was that there was a police officer in the midst of them, before anyone at all had noticed the fire.

She could barely hear when Garrett murmured to her, “Everything’s going to be alright, it was only a fire, and no one got hurt. I know you’re shaken up. Just relax and I’ll do the driving. We’ll be home soon.” His gravelly voice was strangely soothing at the moment, and she was glad he was saying these very often said, but what some might think meaningless, words of comfort. She felt as though her eyes were glassy, but the visor was down and she could not see herself in the mirror. Besides, it was dark. She could not shake the shivering, but she knew that this was not the worst she had ever been through. As snow flittered down onto the windshield, the wipers pushed them away. The back way streets were not as well-lit as the main streets, and the car was cast in gray shadows. She could smell the thick, smoky odor of car exhaust from a vehicle they were approaching. Garrett glanced at her as though in sympathy. She felt a second of warmth, and this helped her very much so. He decided to put on the radio, and this helped even more.

When they were inside the apartment, Garrett set her down on the couch. It didn’t cross her mind that he would follow her into the apartment without even an invitation, because it felt so natural that he would be here. But the fear was there again, the uncertainty and the hesitation she always seemed to feel with him. Maggie buried her nose into his neck as he sunk her into the soft cushions of her sofa, and again she smelled the smoke of the cigar, but fainter now. It was an intoxicating scent. His cologne was lighter than before, yet still spicy enough to excite her nerves and send shooting pangs of desire throughout her entire body. Should she reach for him? He might be dangerous. Should she tell him to back away? The night is too romantic. He brushed the hair from her forehead, but did not say a word. What she thought he meant to say, but what he couldn’t, was that he wanted to stay, but that he could not.

Their eyes met and she shivered again from the cold, although she knew that her body temperature was rising. The collar of his checked shirt was crinkled from where she had just buried her nose in it, and the top button was coming loose. She did not know how that had happened.

“Garrett,” she found herself saying, even though the name came out in a half-gasp, half-whisper. He moved to kiss her and then did, his lips soft and warm, the breath between them sweet and moist. He pulled away, and she shook, whether in longing or fear, she did not know. It was as though a shock of electricity had sliced through her body, and at that moment she had never known a pull so powerful. But she looked up into his gleaming eyes then and they were friendly. “I’m sorry I’m not saying much,” she said with a quavering voice after a moment. “So much has happened in so little time.”

He paused. “It’s alright,” he said. “I know that this is probably very unusual for you.”

She crossed her arms across her chest and sighed, but then Garrett watched her. Many thoughts appeared to be going through his mind all at once, but she could not read his expression. He proceeded to reach down to her feet. “What are you doing?” she asked, surprised.

“I am removing your shoes,” he said suavely. “Perhaps that will relax you. I see that you’re still tense from the events from the night… And I want to make you some tea. The warm cup and the sweet of the drink should relax you. Please, please,” he said. “Don’t think much of it. There are arsonists all across the city, victimizing people every day. There is no reason for us to believe that there is any connection to what happened to your dear friend.”

He had read her mind. And still, the words calmed her, despite the fact that he had finally mentioned Darlene. She had been thinking all day and all night about her death, and yet she felt unready for the utterance of her name out loud. She felt her body temperature drop, or had it risen? The chill was a sharp sensation this time, and she felt it at her back, shooting up her spine. And yet she was warm; the memory of the kiss still lingered in her mind, and the tenderness that came with it was like a whisper of promise that no, he was not going anywhere, and yes, he understood what she was going through. The rustle she heard when she realized he had moved into the dinette area brought her to turn her head towards the direction of the noise. He was searching through old fast-food wrappers in search of something.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I am looking for something to feed you with,” he said. “And I am not finding much. When was the last time you cleaned?”

She was slightly annoyed. “You don’t have to do that,” she said. “I’ll be fine with the tea. I’m not hungry. And I couldn’t stand to eat anything right now.”

But he insisted. “You need to eat. You haven’t had anything all night except for the drinks. Your limbs are shaking. I’ve found some tea cookies. You will eat them along with your tea.”

It was the first order he had given her, and she was too tired to fight with him. “Alright,” she said.

He remained in the kitchen for a good while, and Maggie looked out the window into the darkness, only seeing the reflection of light against the condensation on the window and the lights of the street lamps. It was an indifferent world out there, and Darlene had met with the bitterness of it all. Her killer’s indifference was what got to her. Obviously she was killed in cold blood, and the evidence of pure evil was all too apparent to her. If the man or woman had known her and hated her, it would have been different. Then she might have been able to forgive the person. But to have complete disregard for another person’s life… maybe not even having known her… was what made her angry. And she felt the anger rise from her chest into her cheeks, which flushed, and she could feel herself shaking as these thoughts coursed through her mind.

Garrett came back with the tea, and carefully handed it to her, along with a plate of the round tea cookies she had kept in one of the drawers. “Please drink and eat,” he said, and the tea smelled good as the steam caressed her cheeks with a comforting swirl. Earl Grey, she thought, with a little bit of sweetener.

She sipped the tea and as she drank, she noticed him watching her. Then he moved closer to her, put down the cup and the plate from her hands, and kissed her again.

In the morning, she saw a sleeping figure shrouded in a soft, cotton sheet. She could not help but smile, and she thought to herself, I feel at peace.