Page 45 of M for Murder

‘For this! I just got hit because of you.’

‘Because of me?’ This time it was Angell’s turn to look shocked. ‘If I remember correctly, Hickok, I never asked you to get involved. I was doing fine all by myself.’

Joel snorted in contempt. ‘Yes, of course you were, Angell. You were doing a great job of getting thrown over his shoulder.’

He watched her shake her head in disgust. ‘I can’t believe what an arrogant, bull-headed pig you are. Every time you do something nice, you have to go and follow it up by being a jerk.’ She got to her feet, staring down at him with her hands on her hips, her green eyes flashing angrily. ‘Look, Hickok, I’m sorry that I got you involved in this brawl, and I’m sorry if you think I was rude for not apologising to you, but you know what? I’m not sorry that you got smacked in the face and I hope it hurts like hell tomorrow.’

Her little speech finished she turned defiantly on her heel and, holding her head up high, stormed through the crowd and out of the bar.

Joel watched her go, hating himself for being such a jerk to her and annoyed that he was even more attracted to her than before. He did not have time for a stupid crush. There was a killer out there who needed to be caught, a killer who they had barely any leads on, who could be ready to strike again at any time, meanwhile here he was sniffing around after a rookie police officer. Muttering to himself that he should learn to get his priorities right, he climbed to his feet and followed Angell out of the door.

16

V ic dropped Kylan and Lawrie off just before eleven. They had left the bar early, Kylan had feigned a headache so she could get home and she was pleased when they declined to come in for coffee; Jill saying she had to work the next day; and Vic claiming to have an early morning game of racquet ball arranged with one of his work buddies.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t enjoyed their company. In fact, the evening had gone well. She just felt a little uncomfortable about the conversation that had taken place about the murders and longed to be in the more familiar surroundings of her own home.

Lawrie had also seemed pleased to be home early. He looked tired after spending the whole day at college and Kylan guessed he couldn’t wait to get to bed. He went up first while she stayed down to lock up and make coffee. She took him up a cup and he sat in bed drinking it while she went into the bathroom to wash the make-up from her face and brush her teeth.

When she returned to the bedroom, she slipped out of the dress that had received such approving looks from both Lawrie and Vic, hung it back up in her closet and changed into the silky pink chemise that Lawrie had bought her for her birthday. She climbed into bed beside him and planted a kiss on his cheek, then settled back against her pillow to read more of her book. Now that she didn’t have to worry about dinner plans and strange men at the window, she figured it would be easier to concentrate. That, and knowing that Lawrie was in the house with her. Despite her hopes, her mind continued to wander, replaying snippets of the conversation that had taken place earlier that evening. Every time she tried to concentrate on a page, her mind kept flashing colourful visions of Emma Keeley, Scott Jagger and Rufus Lind. She tried to relax by breathing deeply, listening all the time to the perpetual sound of Lawrie’s soft breathing as he drifted into a deep sleep.

Eventually she gave up on reading. Slipping her bookmark into the page, she set down the book on the nightstand and told herself for the hundredth time that she had nothing to worry about. Everything was going to be fine.

Catherine Maloney hadn’t been looking for a boyfriend, hadn’t even wanted a boyfriend. She had conjured up quite a reputation as a flirt during her three years on campus, and enjoyed her popularity with the male students, always happy to play the field. However, the first time she laid eyes on Aidan Reilly she was forced to change her mind.

She had met him in The Coven, where he’d been trying to catch her eye, trying to charm her with a devilish smile. She had in turn played games for a while, one minute looking back, the next flinging her arms around various male friends. Finally, fed up with waiting for him to make a move, she had thrown caution to the wind and gone across to introduce herself.

They had soon got talking. Catherine learned that he was twenty-five, new to the area and had recently gotten a job as an intern at the local hospital. He had bought her a drink and the two of them had spent the evening flirting with each other. At the end of the night as he got up to leave, he had suddenly leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips. It had been a warm and passionate kiss, a lover’s kiss, not one shared between two strangers in a bar, and she had watched him leave with her mind in a spin.

He hadn’t told her he would call, but Catherine knew he would be in touch again and for the next few days she was walking on air, talking non-stop about him to all of her close friends. It had been on Friday morning that she’d received his note. It had been left wedged into the side of her locker in a plain white envelope, her name written in bold type across the front. Inside the envelope was a joker playing card and a plain sheet of notepaper containing a typed message.

Catherine,

Meet me Saturday midnight at the old bridge. Love, Aidan xxx

She had reread the note several times, unsure of the significance of the joker and thinking that the guy had to be crazy to believe that she would meet him in a dark and deserted place in the middle of the night. What was even crazier though was that she knew she would go. Catherine Maloney had never been one to back away from a little excitement and danger and she was desperate to see Aidan again. If it meant taking a few chances then so be it.

As she was getting ready to go out Saturday night, it crossed her mind that she was making a foolish decision. She thought of Scott Jagger and Rufus Lind. Both students had been found

murdered only recently and she’d heard the rumours that they were victims of Professor Boone, who had returned to his old hunting ground.

The cops and the college faculty were, of course, trying to play down any chance of a connection to the infamous Alphabet Killings and, with Boone probably dead, it looked likely that there might be a copycat killer on the loose. If that were true, what proof did she have that it wasn’t Aidan Reilly?

Telling herself that she was being paranoid, she pushed the notion to the back of her mind. Conveniently choosing to forget that Emma Keeley had now been missing for over a week, she concentrated on the fact that so far the killer’s victims had been male – a category that she thankfully didn’t fall into.

She had decided when she had first read the note that she wouldn’t tell anyone where she was going, not even Beth, her roommate, who she knew would try to talk her out of it. If any of her friends found out that she was going to the old bridge alone, they would probably insist on tagging along. Catherine didn’t want anyone with her. No one was going to ruin her night with Aidan.

For once in her life, she made the effort to dress up, borrowing from Beth a short black dress that was cut too low at the front and clung dangerously to her curves and wearing it with her one pair of spike-heeled shoes. She told her roommate she had run into Aidan on Friday and that he was taking her out for a meal, and as she watched her swallow the story hook, line and sinker, she added with a smile that she shouldn’t bother waiting up because if she got lucky, she probably wouldn’t see her for the rest of the weekend.

Like most of the others, Beth had decided to stay in. Usually they all went to The Coven on a Saturday night, but the murders had pretty much killed off any enthusiasm for clubbing. Instead, a group of them had arranged to meet in one of the rooms for an evening of beer and board games. Catherine thought they were being a little extreme. No place was particularly safe these days, but it was ridiculous to let a couple of murders ruin their fun. She kept her opinion to herself, though, and left her roommate, telling her to have a good time.

As she wasn’t meeting Aidan until midnight, she spent the evening in the movie theatre, wisely choosing a Stallone double bill over the Friday the 13th evening, not wanting to give herself the jitters.

The second movie finished at just gone eleven thirty and, after wasting fifteen minutes in the ladies’ room retouching her make-up, Catherine went outside to flag down a cab. She knew the old bridge, having been there once or twice with other boyfriends. It was downtown and backed on to a park, and despite its reputation for drunks and vagrants, it had always proved to be popular with couples. Somehow, Catherine didn’t think there were likely to be many of them out there tonight; not fancying the idea of being there alone, she hoped Aidan would show on time.

As the cab headed away from the crowds and the bright lights and into the quieter, darker streets, she felt for the first time a small knot of apprehension forming in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure whether it was the excitement of knowing she was going to see Aidan or unease, just in case he didn’t show, and she was left standing all alone down by the old bridge. She considered asking the cab driver to hang around if she was first to arrive but figured it would get too expensive. It was silly to worry. Realistically, she was more likely to run into danger back in the direction of the campus.

The cab followed the dimly lit road that led around the side of the park and Catherine saw the warehouses on the opposite bank of the river come into sight. It had been months since she’d been near the old bridge and she wasn’t surprised to see nothing had changed.