Chapter 14
He followed her north out of Oklahoma City to down-town Guthrie where they parked on the red brick street in front of an antique mall with large glass windows. The two-story, red sandstone building had been well taken care of since its construction in 1902. The date was carved into the stone at the highest peak of the building and just below it were tall windows with wavy glass. Cat pointed up to the windows.
“That’s my place up there. Come on.”
He followed her through an antique outer wooden door that had been painted brilliant blue, up a flight of steep wooden steps that seemed just a little too tall and into a long hallway with parallel wooden planked floors that appeared to have been recently polished. It reminded him of an old western film he had seen on TNT. His nose was detecting new paint, varnish, maybe even some mold as he walked down the hallway. The floors creaked and moaned under his feet. Cat paused at the first door they came to and put her key in the lock of apartment number 5 and unlocked the door. Hannah began to yip and whimper as soon as they entered the apartment. Hannah had never been a typical barking dog. It was one of the things that Cat loved about her pet. She only barked when she was frightened or was being protective.
“Please make yourself comfortable. I’m going to take Hannah out real quick. You’re welcome to come with us or, if you’d rather, you can stay here.”
She walked to the dog’s crate just around the corner in the living room and began cooing and talking baby talk. “How’s my Hannah-baby? Come on sweetie. Let’s go pot-ty.”
Hannah rushed from the kennel and barked once at Sullivan to prove she was guarding the place. “It’s okay, baby. He’s a friend. See, Hannah, friend.”
Cat reassured her as she patted Sullivan’s arm and then bent down to pat his shin so that Hannah would smell him. Cat smiled as Hannah sniffed and inspected Sullivan’s pant leg.
Cat was thinking how good he smelt earlier in the car when she was close to him and when he had held her at the station. She was thinking to herself how delicious and manly he smelt. She was sure Hannah thought the same now. Without asking again if he wanted to join them, Cat opened the door and took Hannah out.
“We will be right back. Make yourself at home.”
Sullivan stood in the entryway and looked around. He marveled at the twelve-foot high ceilings and the intricate crown molding throughout the apartment. The place was open and airy and old, he thought. He walked on the Berber carpeted floors and entered an open living room. He walked to the tall windows, which he guessed had to be at least eight feet tall. He could see down the block and into the buildings across the street. Turning around he took in the furnishings and breathed in a decidedly female scent. He figured it was a combination of cinnamon, vanilla and something else kind of girly or flowery. Whatever it was, it was nice. It was very Cat, he thought. He was admiring her rustic-looking coffee table and southwestern décor when he saw the letter on the floor, just as she had described.
Squatting down he examined it without touching it. Seeing the one word threat written over and over made his blood boil. He left it lying there and stood up. He remembered what she had told him about the heart drawing in the bathroom. He made his way through her bedroom without stopping to look around. He felt a little uneasy being this close to her personal space. He flipped on the bathroom light with a pen that he retrieved from his jacket pocket. Huffing on the mirror in various places, he finally spotted the drawing. He would need a picture of this and was considering calling the evidence team out when he heard the front door open and close.
“Are you doing okay?” Cat called out as she led the dog into the kitchen. He could hear her running water in the sink, so he retraced his steps and joined her.
“I’ve looked at the note and the message. I’d like to get my evidence team in here to document everything and collect the evidence.” Cat frowned and cocked her head to the side.
“Do they have to do it tonight? I’m exhausted.”
Sullivan sighed and crossed his arms in front of his large chest. “If we want it done correctly and preserved for prosecution, we do.”
Cat crossed her arms then uncrossed them. She rolled her shoulders and rubbed at the back of her neck.
“Can’t you just bag up the letter and take a picture of the heart on the mirror. I really don’t want a bunch of people in here rummaging through my stuff and making messes for me to clean up. I’ve seen how they do that stuff on TV. It’s ridiculous.”
He caved into her then and agreed to collect the evidence himself, but told her he wouldn’t be able to dust for prints. He asked her if she were sure she didn’t want it processed. She just flashed her hazel eyes at him and shook her head no as she filled Hannah’s bowl with fresh water and measured out a little cup of dry dog food and placed the bowls on the floor.
“She doesn’t like to be watched while she eats. Come on.”
Cat walked to the living room with Sullivan following her. She hoped he was checking her out. She admitted to herself that it felt good to have a man under her roof.
“Tell you what. I’ll get my bag from the car and collect what I can tonight. If it looks like I’ll need the team, I’ll get them out here later in the day. Deal?”
He held out his hand to make a pact with her. She looked at his large, strong hand sticking out there between them and then with her eyes, traced up his arm to his chest, across his broad shoulders, up his sturdy neck, along his strong jaw line, then paused at his full mouth. When his lips parted in a smile, she caught her breath as she studied his white teeth and followed the contours of his high cheekbones to those long dark lashes and sultry brown eyes.
She wasn’t sure how long she had stood there like that staring into those eyes then back down to his mouth when he interrupted her thoughts.
“You’re killing me,” he said.
“What?” She asked innocently and batted her eye lashes at him.
“Your indecision…it’s killing me,” he said. He dropped his hand, ran it over his hair as he walked to the door.
“Just wait here. I’ll be right back.”
He was grateful for the cold air outside as he popped open the trunk and dug around for his evidence bag. It had been awhile since he had done the hands-on evidence collecting. This woman had him so flustered he doubted he would get any of it collected per procedure. He was already kicking himself for agreeing to do this.
Cat watched from the window as he gathered his things from his patrol car. She felt a rush of excitement when she saw him sit on the bumper of his car and run his fingers through his hair several times. She laughed out loud as she noticed he was talking to himself. She hoped he was feeling what she was feeling. What was she feeling? She asked herself. It was so strong, this tug at her heart.
When Sullivan came back up with his bag, he saw Cat in the kitchen putting coffee grinds in a paper filter.
“Are you sure you want coffee this late. Won’t you have trouble sleeping?” Sullivan asked her as he sat a large black nylon bag on the kitchen table. He unzipped it and pulled out some latex gloves and blew into them before he stuck his fingers in. He snapped the gloves in place as she turned to look at him.
“I always have trouble sleeping. Coffee relaxes me. I guess I’m weird. The caffeine doesn’t seem to keep me awake, bad dreams do.”
He nodded and looked serious when he said, “Oh, yes, I remember. Have you always had them, or has it just been recently?”
He took his camera out and removed the lens cover. He snapped a couple of pictures of Cat leaning against the counter with her hands behind her on the counter like she was about to push herself up to perch there. God, she’s beautiful, he thought, as he looked through the camera at her. He ached to touch her. He decided he better get to work before he made a fool out of himself.
“I’ll start with the letter. Don’t let me keep you from doing anything, okay?”
“Well, I usually strip down as soon as I walk in the door, but I guess I’ll wait to do that,” she said with a laugh. She turned around, poured the carafe filled with water into the coffee machine and turned it on. Sullivan, whose mind was still stuck on “strip down,” just stood there. He was trying to decide how to respond, when he bit his tongue, turned and briskly walked out of the room.
Worried that she had offended him, Cat walked into the living room behind him. Sullivan had knelt down next to the note and was snapping pictures.
“Sorry. I was just teasing,” she began. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable by saying that.” Slowly Sullivan stopped snapping pictures and stood up. They were dangerously close together. He looked down into her upturned face and looked from one hazel eye to the next measuring his words carefully.
“Everything about you makes me uncomfortable, lady, but in the very best way possible.” He heard her quick intake of air, and without waiting for her response, he turned and walked to the bathroom.
He repeated the procedure of steaming the window with his hot breath and quickly snapped a few pictures.
“Come help me a minute, will you?” Sullivan called out.
When Cat peeked her head around the corner into the bathroom, he pointed to the mirror. “Will you hold this ruler against the mirror so I can get a measurement in the photo? Then blow your breath on there while I take some pictures? We could get the bathroom steamy and then take some pictures, but my camera lenses will just fog over.”
She understood exactly what he meant about being uncomfortable. He was doing it to her as well. The bathroom was not big enough for the two of them to be in there together without touching. But without another word, she leaned over the sink and blew her hot breath out onto the mirror and then leaned back so he could get a good shot of it. As he leaned down and forward for the shot they bumped into each other, but neither moved away. She was so close to him, she felt like she would pass out. Her eyes studied Sullivan’s profile approvingly until he finally dropped the camera and looked at her, then gestured towards the mirror with his chin.
“He must have had gloves on. I’m not seeing any prints here.”
He looked so close at the mirror his eyes nearly crossed. “I can get the fingerprint dust out and make sure, but there doesn’t appear to be any fingerprints on the mirror.”
He told her that there could be prints on the envelope or note. He would have them processed tomorrow. He followed her out of the bathroom and watched her black slacks disappear around the corner. He gathered up his demeanor, camera and ruler and returned to the living room where he bagged the letter. Back in the kitchen he placed everything into his evidence bag and zipped it up. He laughed as Hannah proceeded to dance around the kitchen. Her little toenails, painted a rusty red, clicked on the ceramic tiles. Sullivan reached down and petted her fat little belly and glanced over at the coffee pot which had stopped percolating.
“Hey, I think the coffee’s ready. Do you want me to pour you a cup?” Sullivan yelled. “I’m assuming you wanted to use these dainty little cups you placed on the counter?” he asked as he picked up a tiny cup with a thumb and index finger.
“Are they too frilly for you, Detective?” Cat asked. She appeared in the doorway with a warm smile on her face. “You can get a regular mug if you like. They’re above the sink.” She pointed to the cabinet behind him.
“These cups will be fine. I was just giving you a hard time.” Sullivan said as he lifted the coffee pot and poured the dark, hot liquid into two tiny china cups with red roses painted on the sides. He placed her cup on a matching saucer and handed it to her.
“Need any cream or sugar?” Cat asked as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out some Peppermint Mocha coffee creamer and splashed some into her coffee.
“No, thanks. I’ll get my man card taken away just for drinking out of this cup. I wouldn’t be caught dead with that stuff in it, too.”
She laughed as they walked with their coffee to the living room where they sat on a southwestern print sofa. Sullivan sipped his coffee and looked at Cat over the rim of his flowered cup. It looked to Cat like Sullivan’s eyes were smiling.
“What?” she asked at last. “Are you making fun of me?”
Sullivan shook his head, “No, Ma’am. Not at all.” He placed his cup on the saucer and then set them both on the coffee table. “I need to ask you some serious questions, but I don’t want to upset you again, especially now that you’re being so hospitable.” He smiled a sweet smile at her then.
“It’s okay. Go ahead and ask.”
He steadied his gaze on her face then started, “First of all, why do you park your car so far away from the building when you know you are going to have to walk out there by yourself after midnight?”
That was an easy one she thought. She sipped her coffee and replied, “Because when I arrive at work, it’s the middle of the day, and there’s no place else to park.”
She appeared so relaxed and calm. He ventured to broach the Rick issue.
“Will you tell me what happened tonight at the station? I want to know what happened and what Rick said and did.”
Cat looked into his brown eyes and felt herself wanting to trust him. She began where Sullivan and Bronson had left the radio station earlier in the day. She mentioned how Susan had been there and how Rick had acted towards her. She was trying to decide what if any part she had played in Rick acting the way he did. There had been a couple of times during her show where she had looked through the glass at him and he had appeared to be staring at her. She had smiled at him, and he had actually smiled back. Once, she might have even winked at him when a caller had commented on her voice. The caller had said it was sexy. She didn’t even think about how Rick could have taken that wink, but now she had to admit that maybe he thought she was flirting with him.
She told Sullivan about what had happened and what Rick had done and how she felt about it all. Then she waited to see what Sullivan’s response would be.
“First of all, I want you to quit trying to blame yourself for this guy’s actions. Secondly, I want you to consider filing a complaint against him with the station manager.”
He paused and looked into her hazel eyes. He saw him-self there, with her, and happy. Forcing his eyes away and his mind to focus, he continued, “Thirdly, I wish you would write out a statement for me and allow me to pursue charges against him for assault and battery. I can probably even get the DA’s office to go for sexual assault.”
He noted the pain in her eyes as he finished, and he wanted so badly to comfort her, to hold her. Sighing out loud, Cat sat her cup down on the table and rubbed her hands on her thighs like she was cold.
“Wow! Well, I don’t know.” She shook her head slowly and shrugged her shoulders. “I need to think about that.”
Sullivan placed his elbows on his knees and brought his face a little closer to hers. “Can I ask you something else?” She shrugged her shoulders again, but didn’t move away from him.
“What did Rick mean when he said you didn’t mind it before? Or whatever it was he said. He implied...”
Holding her hand up with her palm toward his face, she leaned away from him. Her color had turned bold red and her eyes flashing.
“Stop right there. Rick was lying. I don’t care what he was implying.” She started to get up when Sullivan placed a warm hand on her arm.
“Okay, take it easy. I believe you. Please think about what I said though. After seeing that note and the mirror tonight, I’m not so sure it wasn’t Rick that did those things, are you?”
Cat didn’t speak, but she laid her hand on top of Sullivan’s that still rested on her forearm. They sat there like that for a minute or two before Sullivan told her he had to go. She tried to talk him into staying longer, but Sullivan knew he couldn’t. He had to separate these feelings that were growing for her from the homicide case or risk losing it and his mind along the way.
He carried their cups and saucers back to the kitchen with her following him. He placed the dishes in the sink and took a deep breath before turning around to meet her eyes. He could see her fear had returned. He cursed his own resolve and grabbed his evidence bag.
With a final wistful look at Cat, he said goodnight and then was gone.