The Chilling Spree (6 page)

“You’re leaving?”  Swanson interrupted
our plans.  “Aw, c’mon.  You guys have VIP’s to the after
party.  You won’t want to miss it.  If you’re worried
about getting back to the throng down front, we can have you
escorted ahead of the barricade that holds the rest of the crowd at
bay.”

Devlin glanced at me, those boyish eyes
gleaming with hope.  I sighed.  It was his favorite band
after all.  “Why not?” I murmured.  “Although I’m not
sure there’s going to be a great after party tonight.  The
police are sending more cops to investigate what clearly appears to
be a crime scene, Mr. Swanson.  The last thing they’ll allow
is more bodies tromping around back here and muddying an already
compromised crime scene.”

He grinned, communicating a
we’ll see
attitude and ushered us to the right side of the stage, down a
flight of stairs and toward a security guard.  He paused long
enough to yell something neither Devlin or I could hear over the
throbbing din of music.  The guard nodded and escorted us to
the front center section of the front most barricade.  He
leaned close.

“Enjoy the show!”

I saw no need to stand in front of Devlin
until I realized the hand that started groping my ass didn’t belong
to my date.

Our guard escort returned twenty minutes
later with two large glasses of beer in his hands.  “From
Swanson,” he shouted.

I glanced up at the grinning singer on
stage.  Uh-huh.  Right.  I was wary of drinking
anything I didn’t watch the vendor dispense, but Devlin had no such
qualms.  He guzzled.  I tentatively sipped.  The
fact that we were served more Guinness made me exceedingly
paranoid.  I felt my discomfort radiating in waves. 
Surely Devlin felt it too.

His lips brushed the shell of my ear. 
“You’re not having a good time.”

Guilt, that hated and waste of emotional
energy, shrouded me.  Hadn’t he told me – repeatedly – for the
past week how much he was looking forward to this concert? 
His hand curled around my waist.

“If you want to go –”

I rested my hand over his, let my fingers
slide between his and shook my head.  “Sorry, Dev.  I’m
trying to shake it off.”

“Don’t give him the power to ruin our
night.  Was he here because he wanted to be with you?”

More like lord his authority over me. 
The dagger hit my heart.  Unfortunately, Devlin saw the effect
his question had on me.  The hand at my waist tightened. 
“I’m sorry,” lips moved in slow motion.

“No, don’t apologize.  You’re
right.”

“Drink your beer,” he urged.

Alcohol, my anesthesia of choice.  For
a split second, I hoped someone had dropped a hit of something else
into the cup before handing it to me.  I tipped the cup to my
lips and let the pungent liquid roll over taste buds down a willing
throat.  Wasn’t this the excuse Johnny planned to use to throw
me off a case that by all accounts should’ve belonged to Dev and
me?  If I had the label, I may as well embrace it.

I tossed the empty cup to the floor and let
Devlin pull me back into a thrashing rhythm.  Soon enough, the
alcohol hit my blood stream.  The arms around me soothed away
some of the pain I’d been grappling with since Johnny’s little mind
wipe. 

Maybe Ned was right.  There was no
indication that Johnny was interested in anything other than
blaming me for a lot – even though he wasn’t exactly wrong to do
so.  He lost his cover, lost his memory, maybe gained some
insecurities.  I never asked him to follow me anywhere. 
I never wanted him pushing his way into my life.

At least Devlin showed enough respect to let
me make the decision to spend time with him. 

More beer appeared.

Madden struck familiar chords.  A
memory floated back to me.  I hadn’t been completely
forthright with Devlin when he invited me to see this band in
concert.  Yes, I had bought records based on a name that I
knew Marie would have a fit of apoplexy over when she saw
them.  But I wasn’t ignorant to the music, and there were bits
and pieces of the band’s songs that I knew very well.  Before
long, one fist was in the air and I was singing along at the top of
my lungs.

I felt Devlin’s laughter ripple through my
chest.  His lips grazed my neck.  The fist uncurled over
my head and reached around to ruffle through the hair at the nape
of his neck.  His arms tightened around me in response. 
I melted into the embrace, head tipped backward against his
chest.

“Helen?”

“I don’t want to hurt anymore,” I said.

As a general rule, I am not accustomed to
feeling the protective instincts of men.  Only one man ever
got away with it – my father.  But Devlin’s snuggled around me
in that instant, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel
smothered or offended by the feeling.  Perhaps it was a sign
of how truly battered life had left me.  Then again, it
could’ve been a shot of Crown and several enormous glasses of
Guinness.  Maybe creepy Fulk Underwood’s eye rape and
provocative, presumptuous words were the final straw.  All I
knew was that in a single instant, it felt good to have someone
else carry my burden, even if it was only for an hour or two.

His sinewy arms banded around me tightly,
shoulders bent over me and shielded me from the pain I finally
admitted was tearing me apart.  What started with my corrupt
ex-husband was complicated by suspicions from my peers at the
FBI.  Johnny Orion was the straw that broke the camel’s
back.  Letting go, telling him I loved him, only to suffer
under his now vacant gaze and hostile words proved to be the last
in a long succession of painful blows.

Nothing could’ve peeled me out of Devlin’s
arms.  Not duty.  Not obligation.  A bond fused
between us, one that had been budding in friendship, one that could
easily become something else, something deeper.  Frantic music
and thrashing bodies behind us didn’t disturb the slow gentle sway
that erupted.  Devlin held me.  I let him.

The music ended.  Darkness fell over
the growing roar behind us as twenty thousand people chanted for an
encore.  I felt Devlin’s breath against my cheek, but in the
dark, couldn’t see if he was speaking.  Hearing him was a
futile effort.

The energy from the crowd grew and
pulsated.  Stomping feet, screaming voices and a demand for
more continued until a single light appeared in front of where we
stood.  Scott Madden stood in the center of the
glow. 

He gestured for silence with a palms down
motion of his hands.  “Folks, it looks like that problem that
prevented us from starting the show on time turned out to be a
major fly in the ointment.” 

Our eyes met, locked for a beat longer than
I wanted.  This case wasn’t mine.  It
couldn’t
be
mine.  Precognition made my skin crawl. 
Since when
has your life or your career been about your choices, Helen? 
Better brace yourself now.

Madden continued.  “As you know, we’re
giving an encore performance tomorrow night.  Like this show,
it’s completely sold out, and I’m told that our VIP party tonight
has been cancelled.”

Boos rumbled from those like Dev and me down
front with VIP access.

“So we’re going to make a one time offer for
those who won’t be able to party with us tonight.  Show up
tomorrow night, same time, same place, and we’ll make room for you
at the show and honor your VIP access afterward for the biggest
fuckin’ party this city has ever seen!”

Madden paused and stared down at us. 
“That goes for the two of you as well,” he grinned. 
“Thankfully, duty isn’t calling you, and I have it on high
authority that you’re both off this week.”

Dev rested his chin on the top of my
head.  I felt the grin.  One arm unwrapped from my waist
and threw up the horns.  I shook my head and chuckled. 
“You aren’t dragging me back into this mess for a second time,
Dev.”

His whisker rough cheek nuzzled mine. 
“Aw, just think of the stuff we could pick up that might help
Crevan close his case if we did a little unofficial digging.”

We waited for the crowd to disperse after a
raucous encore.  I made no move to leave the arms protecting
me.  “Dev?”

“Hmm,” he hummed in my ear.

“Are you upset with me for giving up the
case without a fight?”

“Hard for me to be objective all things
considered.”

I looked up at him.  “Because you hate
Underwood so much?”

“Well, that too.”

“Too?”

“Helen, I like these guys.  I know
they’re a bunch of conceited assholes, but they’ve been like… role
models to me since I was a kid.  I know they’re not much older
than I am, but still.  It’s hard to be objective.”

“That’s why you hung back when we approached
them backstage, isn’t it?”

“Should’ve known you would pick up on the
most subtle nuance.  Yeah, I guess I did hesitate for a second
or two.  You know that Madden is from Darkwater Bay,
right?”

“I wasn’t aware of that.  He doesn’t
live here anymore, does he?”

“I think he’s got a brother in town still,
but that’s it.  He lives in Los Angeles.  They all
do.”

“You surprise me, Devlin.”  I wiggled
around in his arms until we were face to face.  “I never
figured you for such a fan of anything.”

“Like I said, it’s one of those things left
over from my misspent youth.”

“One that the Marines didn’t brainwash out
of you?”

He grinned.  “Never.”

Our eyes met.  “Thank you for tonight,”
I said.

“You ready to talk about it yet?”

I shrugged.

“Helen, you’ve gotta know that in a very
short time, you’ve become pretty damned important to me.  As a
friend, as a colleague… someone I’d love to get to know
better.  You can tell me anything.  It goes no
further.”

Dad’s words bounced around in my paranoid
mind. 
A secret is never safe if more than one person knows
it.
  Still, there were things I could unload on Devlin
that wouldn’t result in my arrest.  Pain over Johnny’s cold
words for instance fell into that specific category.

I nodded curtly.  “Wanna get a cup of
coffee?”

His fingers did a spidery dance over the
small of my back.  “That would probably be a great idea since
we’ve been drinking and the place is crawling with cops.”

“There’s a diner across the street.  I
doubt it’s suddenly the location of the after party since poor
Madden had to cancel tonight’s festivities after the show.” 
My eyes darted toward the wall of bodies moving off the
stage.  “They’re not going to let anyone move anything until
CSD has the scene processed.”

“Not our problem, Helen. 
Remember?  Tony and Crevan are on tonight.”

“Yeah.  But I wonder if they found the
victim.”

The security officer who escorted us down
front appeared again.  “Detectives?”

“Yeah,” Devlin said.

“There’s a Dr. Winslow back stage asking if
she can speak to you before you leave.”

“Guess that answers your question,” Devlin
murmured.  “Shall we?”

“It would appear we have little
choice.  Lead the way, sir,” I said.  My left arm snaked
around Devlin’s waist.  Somehow, the idea of going back into
Johnny’s vicinity made the stabbing pain in my chest intensify.

“Are you sure?  You can always call
Maya if –”

“I’m all right, Dev.  Just stay close,
okay?”

“Sure,” he said.

Security could only escort us as far as the
yellow crime scene tape.  We were on our own from there. 
Of course all of the officers on duty knew both of us on sight,
even though Devlin and I hardly looked like we did on the
job.  It garnered a few grins here and there, and some good
natured ribbing directed at Devlin.  Apparently, his love of
Pan Demon was no secret at Downey Division.

I saw Maya crouched beside what looked like
a trunk one might see loaded on a steamer ship circa 1915. 
Her blue nitrile gloves matched her pantsuit.  Come to think
of it, Forsythe was wearing a dark suit with a tie of the same
color.  I groaned inwardly. 

Dev and I weren’t the only ones who had an
interrupted date. 

“She’s over there, Devlin,” I said.

“Yeah, give me a minute.  Ned’s here,”
he said.

“I don’t want to be –”

“Right,” he interrupted when Johnny’s frame
blocked the route between Maya and me.  “Are you sure you
wouldn’t rather talk to Ned first, or maybe duck out of here and
give Maya a call from across the street?”

I’m not sure if it was Orion’s glare that
made his arm leave my waist or the idea that our peers suddenly had
an awareness that this might be more than two colleagues attending
a concert together – like the real date it had suddenly
become.  What I knew wasn’t cerebral.  It was
instinctive.  I felt alone and naked.  My fingers
clutched at his hand, tightened in a knot with his fingers.

“Maybe I should just call her.”

“Helen!”  Maya’s voice bellowed through
the concrete space.  “Over here.”

“Too late now,” I muttered.  “Please
don’t let him pull me off for another private conversation,
Devlin.  No matter what.  Promise me.”

I caught Briscoe’s glare out of the corner
of my eye.  My throat felt like dried bark.  The direct
path to Maya led us straight through the brick wall of Johnny
Orion.  Much to my relief, Devlin took the lead in the
direction of one of the few people in Darkwater Bay that I knew
from my side of the world.

Maya eyeballed me with a vague grin. 
“You’re sweating.”

I rolled my orbs in return.  “What do
you need, Maya?  I’m off duty.”

Johnny’s eyes judged silently, along with
his nostrils.  If he detected the beer I drank more than an
hour before the crime scene was discovered, I probably reeked like
a brewery by now.