Dark Obsession (15 page)

In the falling twilight, the theater seemed to wear a pall of gloom. The shadows around her deepened, and the wind grew brisker. Shivering from cold and from a growing uneasiness about Roman Gerard and his play, Erin gathered her coat around her and ran toward the street, anxious to become a part of the crowd of people hurrying home from work.

Just as she reached Washington Square, a mist descended, seeping through her wool coat to chill her to the bone. She tried to shake the lingering gloom, but as she crossed through the square, her past rose up to confront her yet again.

Like a relentless echo, Desiree’s voice resounded in her ears. “Did you know there are bodies buried beneath Washington Square, Erin? Thousands, just waiting to reach up and grab little girls like you who don’t do as they’re told.” Back then, she would grab hold of Erin’s hand, and Erin would scream and scream while Desiree laughed and laughed.

Beneath the street noises, Erin became aware of a more subtle sound. She heard children’s voices repeating the same singsong rhyme over and over again. Her heart froze. She knew that song. It was part of her past. Hers and Megan’s.

Erin put her hands to her ears, trying to block the sound, but the singing grew louder until she could no longer deny the words.

Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

If I should die before I wake,

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

It was the prayer she and Megan had repeated endlessly while they clung to each other during the long, terrifying nights. And as Erin listened more closely, she heard another voice, an achingly familiar voice, rising over the chanting.

Don’t leave me, sissy. Don’t ever leave me again.

“Megan!” She cried her sister’s name into the twilight. Immediately the wind picked up, rustling through the trees like a whisper. Like a warning.

Shivering against the cold, Erin hurried toward home. Racine was standing in the hallway when Erin entered the building. “I’ve been waiting and waiting for you,” she said.

“Why?”

Racine’s green eyes glittered with worry. “Because
I have to tell you something. We’d better go inside,” she said, nodding toward Erin’s door.

Apprehension crept up Erin’s spine. “What is it?” she asked. “Has something happened?”

Her first thought was that something had happened to Nick. Fear stabbed through her. “Is it about Detective Slade?”

Racine gave her a sidelong glance. “Yes.”

“What happened? Is he hurt?”

“Not that I know of.” Racine took the key from Erin’s shaking hands and opened the door. She turned on the light, then closed the door behind Erin. “Why are you so worried about Detective Slade?” Racine asked suspiciously.

“Because he’s working on Megan’s case.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?”

Erin walked over to the window and stared out. “What other reason could there be?”

“You’re not in love with him, are you?”

Erin whirled to face Racine. “Of course not. How could I be? I barely know him.”

“I’m glad you realize that fact,” Racine said ominously. “Because you
don’t
know him, Erin. You don’t know anything about that man.”

“What are you trying to tell me?”

Racine walked slowly toward Erin, her expression grave. “I know why he looks so familiar to me,” she said. “Why I didn’t trust him the moment you introduced him to me.” She clutched Erin’s hand. “You
remember the club I told you about the night Megan was killed? The one down by the river? I saw Detective Slade there one night. I saw him talking to Megan. He knew her, Erin. He knew your sister. And now she’s dead.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“A
re you sure this is the right place, lady?”

In the dim light from the street, Erin checked the address on the card she held in her hand. This was the place all right.

Her heart quickened as she gazed out at the bleak, ominous-looking club. With its boarded windows and peeling paint, the building would have looked abandoned, save for the small group of people milling about outside, gazing curiously at her cab.

“Well? You getting out or what?”

Erin took a deep breath and fumbled with the door handle. “I’m getting out.”

“You gotta be nuts, lady,” he muttered, accepting the bills she thrust at him.

“Probably,” she agreed, stepping onto the street. With an odd sense of abandonment, she watched as the cab roared away. Then she turned toward the club. Mist curled like smoke around her feet, and a stiff breeze tugged at her coat. Shadows loomed in the shifting lights from the street.

We’ve been waiting for you, Erin.

“You won’t get me,” she whispered to the darkness. “This time,
I’m
coming for
you.
”

Inside, Nosferatu’s was crowded, smoky and dark.
Tables were placed inside small curtained alcoves, giving the illusion of privacy, while dark, decadent-sounding music blasted from overhead speakers. Most of the patrons were young, thin and dressed completely in black. And every single one of them wore sunglasses. Their faces all seemed like masks, all so much alike without the eyes to express their emotions.

And Megan had come here. Megan had been obsessed with this place. Megan had talked to Nick here.

What did it all mean? Erin wondered desperately. Why hadn’t he told her? Why hadn’t he confided in her that he knew her sister?

Because he has something to hide, that’s why.

Erin closed her eyes as Racine’s accusation rang in her ears. “You can’t think he has anything to do with the killings. He’s a policeman, for God’s sake,” Erin had protested, not quite knowing why she felt such an overwhelming need to defend him.

“So what? You think the police can’t be corrupt? You think a policeman can’t become a cold-blooded killer? Who knows what may have driven him over the edge? I’ll bet you anything that Detective Slade is a man with a very dark past. I advise you to stay away from him, Erin. He’s dangerous. You only have to look at him to know that.”

Yes. He
was
dangerous. Erin had known that all along. Then what was she doing here? she asked herself helplessly.

Her heart began to pound even harder in dread and
fear as she gazed around the club. But her heart also raced with a strange mixture of excitement and anticipation. She slipped on a pair of Megan’s dark glasses and a feeling of anonymity overwhelmed her.

The deep, pounding rhythm of the music drew her toward the dance floor, where she stood watching. No strobe lights here. No mirrored balls. These people danced in darkness, their movements suggestive, bordering on the erotic, and Erin felt her stomach quiver with nervous tension.

She’d chosen a black knit dress from Megan’s wardrobe, and now she blended with the dark atmosphere of the club. She even almost felt a part of it. Don’t, she warned herself. Don’t let the darkness seduce you. Don’t let it trick you.

She hitched herself up onto a metal stool at the bar. The bartender, a tall, gaunt-looking young man with long straggly hair and tiny wire-rimmed sunglasses, approached her.

“Haven’t seen you in here before,” he said after she’d placed her order. He studied her face in the shadowy light.

Erin smiled nervously as she adjusted her glasses. “How can you tell?”

“Some people study eyes. I study teeth. And I know I’ve never seen yours before.”

His gaze lingered on her lips for so long that Erin began to grow even more unsettled. She took a sip of the wine he placed in front of her and gazed around
the club. “Actually, my sister used to come here. Her name was Megan Ramsey.”

“I see the resemblance.”

He was still looking at her mouth, Erin noticed. She started to moisten her lips, then thought better of the action. Instead she said, “So you remember her?”

“She came in a few times.” He leaned his forearms against the bar, and Erin noticed how pale his skin was. Even paler than hers. So pale it almost appeared translucent in the dim light from the bar. “I read about what happened to her in the paper. She was a beautiful woman. Great teeth. Just like yours.”

Erin fought the urge to place her hand over her mouth. “Did she have friends who came in here with her? Maybe a boyfriend?”

“She used to come in occasionally with some of the other actors from the theater where she worked. They’d drop in after rehearsals to have a few drinks, unwind.” Light reflected off his glasses as he cocked his head slightly. “Come to think of it, I do remember seeing her talking to a man once or twice. They seemed to have a thing going, but I haven’t seen him in here for a while.”

“Was he part of the theater group?”

The bartender shrugged.

“Do you know his name?”

He straightened up from the bar. “Most people don’t give out their names in here. Everyone’s anonymous. That’s why we wear the shades.”

“But you knew Megan’s name,” Erin noted.

“Megan was an actress. She wanted people to remember her.”

“So it stands to reason that the man she was with wasn’t an actor. Otherwise he would have given out his name, as well.”

“Whatever you say.”

“What about the other women who were murdered? Did you ever see them in here?”

“Hey, what is this, an inquisition? I’ve already talked to the police.”

“To Detective Slade?” Erin asked sharply.

“Never heard of him,” the bartender said, but his attitude had suddenly chilled. He moved down the bar and began mixing what looked like a Bloody Mary for another customer.

Erin turned on the stool, letting her gaze sweep the crowded club. Was he out there somewhere? Was the man who had killed her sister among that anonymous, androgynous crowd, that writhing throng of nameless, faceless bodies that merged and mingled into a darkness that seemed both surreal and dangerously real? And what would she do if she found him? If he found her?

The back of Erin’s neck tingled with excitement and fear and another even more disturbing sensation. Someone was watching her again, she thought. But it wasn’t just the passing glance of someone curious. Not even the bolder stare of someone interested.
Someone was studying her with such intensity that she felt the depth of his probe all the way to her soul.

Her gaze traveled over the crowd, then rested on one of the alcoves at the back of the room. The curtains had been pulled closed, obscuring whoever sat inside, but for some reason Erin couldn’t tear her gaze away. Someone was sitting behind that curtain, calling to her, reaching out to pull her into the darkness.

Or was she imagining that lure?

We’ve been waiting for you, Erin.

The voice slipped inside her, making cold chills run up and down her spine. Erin knew, with every instinct deep inside her, that she should turn and run, leave that dark and dangerous club and never look back. But she couldn’t seem to move, couldn’t seem to walk. An ominous spell had descended over her, and all she could do was sit there and listen to that voice inside her head, whispering to her secrets she didn’t want to hear.

I know you’re afraid of the night, Erin. You’re afraid of what you might find in the shadows. But the idea excites you, too, doesn’t it? Just like it did her. The darkness intrigues you even as it repels you. You’re trapped between two worlds. Between day and night. Dark and light. One day soon, you’ll have to choose….

Erin felt herself reeling, trapped as if on a merry-go-round. The shuttered faces around her spun, one after another, until they all blended into one.

Dance for me, Erin. Dance for me as she did.

She had to be dreaming, Erin thought. She had to be in the throes of a powerful nightmare, because when he commanded it, she suddenly found herself floating toward the dance floor, found herself moving to the erotic beat and listening for that voice throbbing inside her.

That’s it. Let the music take you. See how thrilling the night can be?

The voice seduced her as the beat of the music thrummed through her, coaxing her to respond with an abandon Erin had never known before. Her breath quickened. Her body trembled. Thrill after thrill coursed through her as the words in her head and the music from the speakers flowed into her soul, seducing her with their dark, erotic allusions.

Erin wanted the music never to stop. She wanted to remain in the darkness forever. Wanted the sensations raging inside her to climb higher and higher. Why had she never noticed how beautiful the darkness could be? It reminded her of—

Nick.

As if she’d conjured him up from a nightmare, he stood before her suddenly, looming over her. His shoulders seemed even broader tonight, his expression more grim. Was he the one who had spoken to her? Seduced her? Erin shivered, waiting.

The collar of his leather coat shaded his face, and like everyone else in the place, he wore sunglasses.
He seemed to fit so perfectly in the dark, eerie atmosphere of the club. His face was tense, rigid, as if he was having a hard time controlling his anger. “What are you doing here?”

“I…”
I was looking for you,
she almost said. Erin gazed around the dance floor, at the undulating bodies all around her. The black knit dress she wore had shifted, baring one shoulder, and her dark hair tumbled about both shoulders in wanton disarray. Her face colored in embarrassment. What was she doing? And what must he think of her?

He didn’t wait for her to answer. Instead he said, “Let’s get the hell out of here.” He led her from the dance floor, and a sudden rage filled her. Not her own anger, she dimly realized, but someone else’s. Then it was gone, but Erin was shaken by the sensation, and by an almost overwhelming sense of evil.

A young woman with a wild mane of silver hair sidled by, giving Slade an appraising once-over. Erin could have sworn she heard the girl say, “So long, Slade” before he had steered Erin through the entranceway.

The crowd that had mingled outside when Erin first arrived had now dispersed. Clouds scudded across the sky, partially blocking the moon, and the wind that swept down the street carried the chill of rain. The street was silent and dark, with only the quiet swish of tires from the occasional car passing by.