Craving Vengeance (5 page)

Walker stepped up behind Marsh as well.
“What’s that?” he asked.

“Rosso’s bank records. How is it that a
bartender has over $20,000 in his checkbook and nearly $300,000 in
his mutual fund, especially when he’s paying an arm and a leg for
his fancy high-rise apartment on the waterfront?”

“What is he into?” Spinelli asked.

“That’s the million dollar question,” Marsh
replied

Spinelli’s phone buzzed. He yanked it from
its holder. “Spinelli here.”

“I’ve got the pathologist report from Bethany
for your first two victims. Cause of death is cyanide poisoning. I
can only guess, but I bet your third cupid’s report will come back
the same.”

“Hmm, cyanide. I wonder why cyanide.”

“It’s highly toxic, almost always deadly, and
works quickly, especially if ingested like it was.”

“They ate it?”

“Looks like it. I can’t say they knew they
ate it, but they did.”

“Interesting.”

Spinelli disconnected the call and filled
Walker and Marsh in on the details.

The three of them eyed the pictures of the
dead cupids hanging on the crime board. They noted the
similarities. All of the victims were slightly over six feet tall
weighing in at 190 to 200 pounds, and they all sported thick, dark
brown hair. Spinelli wasn’t sure if any this meant anything, but it
was all they had to go on at the moment. Marsh had been unable to
turn up any other commonalities between Mike Carter and Tony Rosso
based upon their contact lists, financials, and computer records.
Maybe something would turn up when he cross-referenced their
information with that of Chad Williams, their third and hopefully
last dead cupid.

Spinelli’s cell phone hummed. He pulled it
from its holder and glanced at the display. Shannon’s sparkling
gaze stared back at him. He sent the call to voicemail. He caught
Walker looking at the display as well.

“Not taking that?” Walker asked.

“It can wait,” Spinelli said as he placed the
phone back in its holder. He wasn’t ready to talk to her yet. He
needed to get his thoughts in order before he confronted her, but
the cupid case prevented him from doing so. Maybe he’d never be
ready to talk to her. He shook his head.
Freaking women.

Spinelli shifted his gaze to Marsh. “Tell me
about Cupid.”

Marsh shot him a frown. “What?”

“Cupid, in general, what’s the deal with this
cupid character? You know, historically. Maybe we can find some
sort of connection there.”

“How the hell should I know?” Marsh
questioned.

“You always seem to know this kind of useless
information.”

“Cupid is the son of Venus, the goddess of
love, but I wouldn’t expect someone like you to know anything about
that,” Bethany’s shrill voice sounded behind Spinelli.

A chill raced down Spinelli’s spine. His body
tensed. What was she doing up here? He dreaded having to face her.
She hated him with a passion. He never meant to hurt her, but it
just wasn’t there for him. Spinelli spun on his heel,
“Bethany.”

“Detective,” she responded in a tone so cold
dry ice would have warmed it.

He caught the glances exchanged between
Walker and Marsh. He suspected that they probably wanted to
disappear as well.

Bethany pressed on. “Supposedly, a person who
is shot by cupid’s golden arrow is filled with uncontrollable
desire. I doubt that even cupid’s arrow could penetrate your
exterior.”

Marsh chuckled.

Her angry gaze shifted to him. “What in the
hell are you laughing at, Marsh? You’re no better,” Bethany
snapped.

He pinched his lips together.

God, she’s bitter.
“Bethany, what can
we do for you?” Spinelli asked in the softest voice he could
muster.

She glared at him. “Nothing. I just thought
you might want to know that Chad Williams was poisoned in the same
manner as Carter and Rosso. All three ingested cyanide.”

“How do you think the killer did it? Did he
slip into a drink or something?” Walker asked.

Bethany shrugged. “Could have I suppose, or
perhaps it was something they ate. All their blood alcohol levels
came back negative.”

Bethany stepped closer to the crime board and
studied the photos. There were several photos of the dead bodies
and one each of the men prior to their deaths. She glanced over her
shoulder at the three detectives. “Have you guys noticed anything
odd about your three victims?”

They all edged closer to the board. “What do
you mean?” Walker asked.

She smirked. “They all look like Spinelli.”
She fixed her gaze on Spinelli. “Hmm. I wonder if that means
anything. Might make for an interesting Valentine’s Day for you.
What kind of company have you been keeping?” Bethany questioned
with a smirk just before she sauntered off.

Spinelli eyed the photos more closely.
What in the hell was Bethany talking about?
“Do I really
look like them?”

“Sort of, I guess,” Marsh responded. “Maybe I
should cross-reference some of your lady friends with theirs.”

“What?”

“Well, look how pissed Bethany is. Maybe
we’ve got a scorned woman on our hands. Maybe she’s trying to send
a message,” Marsh added as he pointed in the direction Bethany
disappeared.

A hint of unease coiled in Spinelli’s chest.
Was Marsh right? Right now, his theory was as good as any. His mind
drifted to thoughts of Shannon.
Freaking women! In the event
they don’t kill you, they stomp on your heart and tear you into
pieces. I don’t need this shit!

Chapter Seven

The sound of high
heels clicking against the old hardwood floor echoed in Spinelli’s
ears. A ripple of panic rushed through his veins. He kept his eyes
forward staring at the crime board. Perhaps it was just Bethany
again. He found himself wishing it was, but he knew the truth. He
recognized the pace and the light steps. He willed himself to turn
around, but he couldn’t. It was as if he was frozen in place. He
just couldn’t face her yet. What could he possibly say to her? It
was probably sixty-five degrees in the precinct, yet sweat beaded
on his temples and upper lip.

Walker shifted away from the board. “Hi,
Shannon. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Thanks, Brad. How’s Jeana?”

“She’s good.”

Spinelli continued to stare at the board as
he listened to their conversation. He shot a sideways glance at
Walker and Marsh. Walker continued his chat with Shannon. Marsh
looked like a starving wolf eyeing his prey. Spinelli wondered why
he was looking at Shannon that way. She was probably just wearing
one of her frumpy old business suits as usual.

Spinelli hated those drab suits. They made
her look like an old maid, but he supposed they were appropriate
for when she was working and had to go to court for child placement
hearings. He remembered the first one he’d ever seen her wear. It
was navy blue, and though it did nothing for her petite, yet
shapely body, it did much more for her than the dark chocolate
brown one she’d worn the next day.

“So, Shannon, any big plans tonight?” Walker
asked.

Shannon reached over and touched the upper
part of Spinelli’s arm. His vision blurred. The photos on the crime
board blended into one big, black mass. He’d thought he couldn’t
get any angrier. He was wrong. He still couldn’t seem turn to his
head to face her. She inched closer to him. The warmth of her body
penetrated his. Her sweet scent filled the air, tormenting him.
Why is she down here? What does she want? Doesn’t she know I
know?

“Nick is taking me to dinner tonight. What
about you and Jeana? Any plans?”

Walker chuckled. “Yeah, we’ll have our
customary one night out for the year without the boys. Jeana’s mom
is coming over to watch them for a couple of hours.”

“That’ll be nice for the two of you,” Shannon
replied in her soft, sweet voice, which was normally music to
Spinelli’s ears. But today, right at this very instant, the sound
of her voice was pure heart-piercing torture.

He imagined the sincere look in her eyes as
she spoke to Walker. She always looked genuinely interested when
she talked with people.
Hmf, sincere! Right!
Her soft
feminine voice sang in his head.
Why did she always have to
sound so sweet?
He found it difficult to keep his guard up. He
thought about the ring in his pocket. It was of no use. He and
Shannon would never have what Walker and Jeana have. He may as well
just forget it and go back to the life he knew months ago, before
Shannon invaded his soul. He slid his shaky, sweaty hands into his
pockets and tried to re-focus on the photos of the dead cupids. The
cupids were priority; not his messed up love life.

Shannon’s grip tightened on his arm. His body
tensed. “Nick, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Spinelli turned toward her. Speech escaped
him.

“Are you okay?” Shannon asked, her tone
almost a whisper. Her inquisitive, beautiful gaze fixed on him.

He needed her to stop looking at him through
those long thick lashes, and he needed her to stop touching him.
His aching heart couldn’t take it. He stepped back. Her arm floated
down to her side.

“I’m fine. I can’t talk right now. We’re in
the middle of something important here. I’ll talk to you later,”
Spinelli replied as he turned back toward the crime board. He just
couldn’t look at her any longer. And he couldn’t help but notice
the hint of hurt that flashed through her eyes as he spoke. Even
after what she’d done to him, hurting her nearly cracked his heart
in half. He raked his hand over his face and studied the board.

“Oh, okay, so I’ll see you at eight. We can
talk then.”

Spinelli kept his gaze on the board. “About
that. This could take all night. Maybe we’d better play it by
ear.”

Heat penetrated his shoulder blade. He
imagined the source of the heat was her intense laser-pointed gaze.
Any longer and it just might burn a hole through him. He heard her
sigh.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor
as she walked away from him, each step fainter than the last until
finally no clicking sound remained.

Spinelli felt Walker’s gaze on him, and he
was sure if Walker was speaking right now he’d be telling him what
an asshole he was for treating Shannon so poorly moments ago.

“Jesus Christ, did you see what she was
wearing? What’s that all about?” Marsh asked as he stared in the
direction Shannon disappeared.

Spinelli squeezed his eyes shut. Damn the
convex mirror hanging in the corner above Marsh’s desk. If it
weren’t for that, he probably wouldn’t have noticed how sexy
Shannon looked in that red dress. His heart nearly leaped out of
his chest when he noticed, but then he remembered he was pissed at
her. He was shocked nobody seemed to realize his gaze drifted to
the mirror as he faced the crime board. If Walker hadn’t been
distracting everyone by rambling on about Valentine’s Day, he would
have probably been busted.

Her bright red dress was short and fitted.
The hem fell right above her knees. He had noticed in the few
seconds he’d spent facing her before she left that her low-cut
neckline exposed just a hint of the tops of her soft, pale breasts.
Her breasts were small, so he assumed she was wearing one of her
sexy Victoria Secret push-up bras. He really liked the tiger print
one. The dress had short, off the shoulder sleeves exposing her
petite, well-toned, shoulders. He loved skimming his hands over her
soft, milky white shoulders. He’d fought the urge to throw his
jacket over her shoulders, imagining the other detectives might be
eyeing her in the same manner as Marsh.

A wreath of tiny roses rested around her
sassy up-do. Small clumps of curls hung down around the sides of
her face and the back of her neck. To top everything off, she wore
tall red boots with high heels. Nothing was sexier than a pale
redhead wearing a bright red dress with tall red boots.

He thought about the night they’d shared last
night. They’d made love twice, slowly and sweetly. She gave herself
fully to him, and yet he could never get enough of her. Every nerve
ending in his body lit up as her small, soft hands ran fluidly over
him. And when he slid himself inside her, the soft velvet warmth
surrounding him nearly drove him insane. He recalled how his body
begged for release, but he fought to hold off until her pleasure
came, making his pleasure even more erotic. At one point, they’d
collapsed from exhaustion, rested for a bit, and then started up
all over again.
How could a woman love a man like that and then
kiss another, only hours later?

Marsh slapped Spinelli on his shoulder blade,
snapping him out of his daydream, but not before his thoughts had
pulled a U-turn. His vision of Shannon suddenly included horns on
her head and a devil’s spear in her hand. Both seemed to accent the
red dress as well.

“What?” Spinelli snapped at the touch of
Marsh.

“I asked why she’s dressed like that.”

Spinelli shrugged. “She’s doing some sort of
Valentine’s Day church fundraiser tonight. The proceeds are
supposed to go toward the homeless shelter or something.”

Marsh raised a brow. “Hmm.”

“Hmm, what?” Spinelli questioned.

“I was just thinking that if I had someone
like her waiting for me tonight, I wouldn’t think twice about
ditching these dead cupids and showing her what Valentine’s Day is
all about.”

“How about we just focus on the case right
now?” Spinelli replied as he crossed his arms over his chest and
returned his gaze to the crime board.

* * * *

Shannon made it to her car on her wobbly
knees without shedding a single tear. She couldn’t believe how cold
Spinelli was to her moments ago. It’s like he knew what had
happened with Joshua earlier in the day.