CRIMINAL CHRISTMAS: A Set of 8 Holiday Suspense Stories, page 68
Chapter 13
November 4th, 2012
Scanlon picked the perfect time to set up another meeting for us. My mood had crashed, and I’d felt more than a little unfocused until he’d called. I knew seeing him would cheer me up and probably help me get my head back on my work. I wasn’t going to complain about having a nice dinner on the Edmonds waterfront with a handsome detective. We watched the ferryboats come and go as Scanlon and I hashed over information that I already knew about Eisenbrey. There were no new revelations on that front.
“I read your books,” he said. “The first two books were amazing.” He seemed sweet, with his ready smile and his honey colored eyes so full of like for me. Being with Scanlon felt like taking a happy pill. He didn’t even mention the third book; God bless him.
The waiter brought the bill, and we both reached for it at the same time. “Oh, no you don’t,” he said.
“Darryl, I should get it. It’s been very nice of you to meet with me and share information about Eisenbrey.”
“Yes, but that’s not why I wanted to see you. I asked you out, I’m going to get this.” He snatched the bill from me.
“Oh, was this a date?”
“Well, that’s what I was shooting for. You couldn’t tell, huh?” He chuckled.
“It was very subtle,” I admitted.
Darryl tucked his credit card into the leather bill folder and handed it to the waiter. Then he rested his arms on the table, tapping it absentmindedly with one of his fingers. Gazing at me, he said, “Rebecca, there’s something I want to tell you.”
“Okay,” I said.
He swallowed and said, “I’m extremely attracted to you.”
His directness startled me. “Thanks, Darryl. I’m attracted to you too.”
Even in the dim light of the restaurant, I could see a little more color in his face than there had been moments earlier. He seemed fidgety. “Yeah, but what I really mean to say is…It’s more than that. I’ve never felt this attracted to anyone else.”
This admission surprised me even more. And there was something odd about his expression. He didn’t look happy about what he’d said. He looked worried as he studied my reaction. I wasn’t sure how to respond. After a beat, I realized my mouth was hanging open, so I shut it and then I gave him what I hoped looked like a warm smile. It would be disingenuous to tell him he was the most handsome man I’d ever met. I could think of a man in Walla Walla that was better looking, although Darryl was a close second. Right about when my continued silence had caused the moment to become awkward, the waiter returned and handed Darryl the bill folder.
Darryl thanked the waiter and signed the credit card authorization. Then he smiled at me and said, “Okay. Ready to head out?”
“Yes.”
Darryl came around to my side of the table where I stood. He removed my jacket from the back of my chair and held it up for me as I slipped into it. “Thanks,” I murmured.
Then he donned his own jacket and we left the restaurant.
We spent much of the drive back to my house in content silence, and after a while, I decided to bring up something that had been nagging away at me. “Darryl, Eisenbrey told me something funny during our last visit.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet he’s a real comedian when you just give him a chance.”
“He said you planted evidence in order to get him. He was sure he hadn’t left anything incriminating behind when he killed those hunters in Idaho.” I looked out the window. I smiled, feeling a little amused that Eisenbrey would stoop low enough to make a claim like that. I felt sure that most inmates said similar things. When I looked back at Scanlon, he wore an expression that I didn’t expect to see—wary, guarded.
“I got the right guy. Eisenbrey is the one who killed those people,” he said tersely.
Not quite the response I had expected. That sounded surprisingly like an admission to me, and I found that it momentarily shut down our conversation. I wasn’t sure what to do with that little jewel. Was I supposed to feel bad for Eisenbrey? Should I be incensed at the injustice of it? That seemed ridiculous. Scanlon was right; he had gotten the right man. Eisenbrey had boasted about killing them, not to mention the pride that he displayed about what he’d done to Scanlon’s throat.
The murderer had gotten what he deserved. What was there to feel bad about? And yet, I found myself feeling protective of Eisenbrey and harboring some resentment toward Scanlon. I tried unsuccessfully to push those thoughts from my mind, but then I had to ask, “Are you saying that you did it?”
“What’s worse—allowing him to run around killing whoever he pleases or making sure we had a solid case? Personally, I can sleep easier because he’s locked up.”
I inhaled sharply, surprised that he was being so forthright with me. This man was so different from other law-enforcement personnel I’d met over the years—different from most men in general. He was opening up to me.
“Look, you don’t know what it was like back then. He was still loose. We didn’t know if we were going to have enough evidence to convict him for the triple homicide near his hometown, and his more recent kill sites were providing even less. We were afraid that, if we did manage to capture him, we wouldn’t have cause to hold him. That’s one rollercoaster ride I don’t ever want to be on again. And then I heard about the kill site they found in Idaho.”
“So—a moment of weakness…”
“It wasn’t weakness,” he snapped. “That decision took strength.”
“Hmm. You must have struggled all night with it.” I hadn’t intended it to sound as sarcastic as it had.
“No. I didn’t,” he said, his voice harsh. It seemed as though those might be his last words on the topic, but then he continued. “A man in my position can’t get all emotional about this crap. Bottom line: less innocent people are dead. And now I know I won’t be called out to some campsite in the forest to clean up after another one of his dark little parties. Judge me if you must, but I know my actions have saved a lot of lives.”
“I don’t want to judge you, Darryl,” I said quietly, and it was true. His reasoning wasn’t incomprehensible. He’d shared something important with me tonight. He’d let me in. I felt an affinity with him. “It must be difficult for you, and for the other officers, when you have to deal with a murder scene.” A feeling I knew all too well.
Scanlon stole a brief glance in my direction as he drove. He appeared tentative, cautious. “Yes it is. The images always pop back in my head when I least expect it.”
We remained quiet in the car for the rest of the drive. Then, after parking in my driveway, he leaned over and surprised me with a kiss on the mouth. “Have you ever woken up next to a detective?”
I thought about that for a moment and then answered honestly, “No. I had a quickie with one once, but no overnights.”
“Hmm.” He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Would you like to?” He wrapped his arms tighter around me which felt awkward because we both had to lean over the stick shift in the center panel between the seats. I had just realized this position was putting an uncomfortable strain on my back muscles when I felt his hand slip not only inside my blouse but inside my bra as well. I gasped. Scanlon’s fingers moved gently, and he began to caress my nipple, making it hard, and making me all too aware that it felt extremely good to be up against him.
“This seems kind of fast,” I mumbled into his shoulder. But his body felt warm, he smelled of spicy cologne, and his insistent hand caused my arousal to grow. I felt my senses drifting and thought I could really enjoy this man, if only I didn’t feel so confounded. If only I could stop picturing Tom Eisenbrey on top of me every time I closed my eyes. My eyes blinked open and my body jerked, though I was still pinned against the car seat.
Scanlon whispered into my hair, “It’s okay.”
He seemed like a nice man. There was no question that I found him attractive, and it had been far too long since I had been in bed with a man, so I couldn’t believe my own words as they tumbled out of my mouth, “Darryl, I’d better not.”
“Are you sure? You don’t know what you’re missing,” he said with a wink.
“I can see you think that detectives are all the rage, but honestly, I haven’t been trying to catch one.” It was a lame attempt at humor, and I suppose I was trying to be gentle about having to reject him. I hadn’t said or done anything about his wandering hand however. I didn’t particularly want him to stop. It felt good to be desired after being lonely for such a long time. Scanlon had skills, and if he was this good with the top half it seemed reasonable that he would be good with my bottom half too.
“Forget I’m a detective then. I’m just a man, and you’re a woman, and I want you,” he breathed into my ear. His hand slipped out of my bra. Then, in one fluid movement, he leaned into me, pressing my back into the car seat, and moved his hand up my skirt until it rested between my thighs. “Come on, Rebecca, let me in,” he said gently. I wanted to, but my emotions were conflicted. His fingers moved around on the outside of my panties slowly, exploring, then he applied some extra pressure to my clit with his forefinger. I had a sudden jolt of pleasure that caused a sharp intake of breath. Did I just cum? No, there wasn’t any kind of release, the tension still continued to build. “Hmm, you liked that,” he noticed.
“Darryl, please…”
“Can you say pretty please?” he said as he kissed my neck. He pushed at the lacy material and slipped his fingers inside my panties. The skin on skin contact felt amazing. I moaned. His mouth was at my ear now, “Come on, let’s go to your bedroom so I can do this properly. There’s not enough room in the car.”
“Please,” I said again, not feeling sure what I wanted. He continued with the slow motion of his fingers and found my wetness. He had just begun to slide his finger inside me when a jolt of panic interrupted the moment. I felt a clear message, as if someone had spoken in my ear, but I didn’t know where it came from. You cannot allow this to happen. “Darryl, please stop,” I managed, breathlessly.
“Huh? Stop?” He sounded confused. “It feels like you want this, like you need it as much as I do,” he said in his bedroom voice that softly tried to persuade me. Then he leaned back to gaze into my eyes, and his tone changed, and became more guarded. He moved his hand to a slightly safer location, my thigh. “What is it? You’re not attracted to me? I put you on the spot back at the restaurant, didn’t I?”
“No,” I said.
“Is it my scar?” He touched his neck with his other hand as he said it. “Pretty bad, isn’t it?”
“No way. Scars are sexy,” I assured him. “That only makes you hotter.”
“So I’m hot, am I? Does that mean you like me?” He leaned into me again and his hand slid back to the danger zone. He buried his nose in my hair and sighed. I had to admit, no one could accuse Scanlon of traveling too slow through an intersection after he saw what he perceived to be a green light.
“Whoa!” I said, more forcefully than I’d intended. He withdrew his hand, and I could see hurt and confusion competing in his features. I wanted to soften the blow. “I like you very much. Too much.”
“What does that mean? Why is it too much?”
“I’m going through some stuff right now. I’m a mess.” Was any of that true? It sounded vague and ridiculous, even to me. I suppose I had been a bit depressed lately, and I had been drinking more than normal, but that had tapered off since I started working on the new project. And anyway, it didn’t really rise to the level of anything that should pose a barrier to getting laid. I mean, seriously, it had been more than a year for me. But the feeling was still present—the warning.
“What kind of stuff?” he asked. He leaned back to examine my reaction, ever the detective.
“I’m under a lot of stress with the book…deadlines…”
“Yeah, the book,” he repeated. “This has something to do with Eisenbrey, doesn’t it? Are you attracted to him?”
“No! Why would you say that?” I asked.
“Uh-huh.” He didn’t seem to buy it. He was probably very good at his job. “How do you feel about people like him—murderers?”
“Well, I’m against it, of course.” I sounded like a smart-ass just then, but it irritated me that he would even ask.
“What about the death penalty?”
“I’m all for it in certain cases—for people that kill repeatedly.”
“And in Eisenbrey’s case?” he shot at me.
“Well, I uh…” I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and considered Tom’s upcoming execution. He was scheduled to be hanged on September 30th of next year, a thought which brought me no joy. In fact, it felt wrong. “Yeah, in his case, definitely.” I found myself nodding to support my own statement.
Darryl’s gaze didn’t waver. “You know what, kiddo?” he said, tracing the back of his finger down the length of my nose in a playful manner. “You hesitated a little too long there. He’s getting in your head, isn’t he?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just…he’s not quite as unpleasant as I thought he’d be.” That was all I was willing to confess, but his eyes narrowed, and his expression told me he suspected I was struggling with a lot more.
“Rebecca,” Darryl said. He started caressing my hair. “I want you to be careful with that guy. I care about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“How could I get hurt? He’s locked up in a cell. He can’t touch me.” I said.
“He’s a smart guy, and a convincing liar. He manipulates people.”
“He’s not going to manipulate me. I won’t let him.”
“Sure,” he muttered. His eyes dropped to my blouse. I realized my top button was undone. It must have happened when he slid his hand in my shirt. I could see he was still aroused. I fastened the button, and he gave a disappointed groan.
“It’s time to say goodnight, Darryl. Thank you for a lovely evening.”
He had to be angry, or at the very least really irritated, but he forced a smile. “All right, if you want me to go, I will. But are you positive that you want to pass up the opportunity to tap this? I am a fine piece of ass, if I do say so myself.” He laughed his infectious laugh and I giggled along with him. It made me want to kiss him again, and I did give him a quick kiss on the cheek as I got out of his car.
I stood in the driveway and waved as I watched him drive off. No longer could I hide from the reason why I had said no to Scanlon. I went straight to my laptop and opened my slideshow with the pictures of Eisenbrey.
Chapter 14
November 5th, 2012
When I arrived at the guard’s booth, Lutz greeted me and told me that he would walk me to Eisenbrey’s cell. “Hey Andy, I’m curious about something. I was wondering if you could shed some light. Why does DiMaggio treat Eisenbrey so poorly? What’s his deal?”
“Oh, that guy’s mean to everyone, but he has taken an exceptional dislike to Eisenbrey. I don’t know why. Those two are always swapping insults.” The young guard had a troubled expression. He leaned toward me and lowered his volume, making sure that we were out of earshot of the other guard on duty that day, Officer Jones. “Sometimes DiMaggio goes down to Eisenbrey’s cell and talks to him. I can’t hear what he says, but I’m sure it’s nothing good. He likes to taunt him. It must be awful to be trapped in there and have to listen to DiMaggio’s shit.” Lutz shook his head sadly. He had more empathy for the prisoners than anyone else in this place.
“I’ll bet he was the meanest kid on the playground.”
“I’ll tell you something strange. Don Avery went to school with DiMaggio. They’ve known each other most of their lives. And he said that DiMaggio used to be a really nice guy. They were friends back then.”
With great difficulty, I tried to imagine a world where DiMaggio was a pleasant human being, but I just wasn’t able to make that materialize in my head. “Hmm, I wonder what drove him to the dark side.”
“Maybe it was this place. People change when they start working here. It can make them ugly.”
“Not you though, Andy.”
“Thanks.” He glanced down and dimples formed on his cheeks as he broke into a bashful grin. “I’m glad you’re here to see Tom today. He’s been missing you. He really looks forward to your visits.”
I was tempted to ask Lutz what made him think that Eisenbrey missed me. Had he said something about me? But the thought of asking him made me feel like I was in middle school again. Still, I smiled as Lutz told Jones all was clear and the solid steel door slid open. I felt a little more upbeat after Lutz’s comment.
Eisenbrey’s question caught me off guard.
“What happened?” He walked up to the bars and wrapped his long slender fingers around one of them, peering at me with narrowed eyes.
“What do you mean?” I said. Lutz quietly set up the folding chair for me and walked away, leaving us to our conversation.
“Something’s happened. You saw someone. Who was it?” he demanded.
Tired of asking myself how he knew these things, I just decided to accept it. I knew he wasn’t referring to my chat with Lutz.
“I saw Scanlon yesterday.”
“Really. Was it business or personal?” As I tried to sort out how to describe my time with Scanlon he fired another question at me. “Was it a date?”
“Well…I thought we were meeting about you, but then he told me that he wanted it to be a date.”
Tom breathed out slowly as if trying to calm his temper. It sounded like a hiss. “Look Rebecca, I won’t have you fraternizing with the man who put me in here. Do you understand me?”
“Yes. I think I have all the information I need from him, so I shouldn’t have to see him anymore.”
“I don’t care whether or not you have the information you need. You are not to speak to that man again. I mean it. I’ll know if you do, and I will not be pleased.” There was a sharper edge to this statement than any of the other things he had said.
“Why?” I said. My arms hung at my side, palms out.
“I don’t want anyone to interfere with the connection that we have. If you see him again these interviews will stop.”
