Devil take me down, p.28
Devil Take Me Down, page 28
part #2 of Clementine Toledano Mystery Series
“That’s quite a compliment,” she said, feeling sick.
“But Ben saw it, too. The way he looked at you, spoke about you. But you never noticed me. Just him,” he said, his voice growing bitter.
“You wanted him out of the way, so we could be together,” she suggested.
“Poor, jealous Beth was only too happy to help. It was her idea make those videos. All to make you leave him,” he winked. “You should have seen how enthusiastic she was when I told her to call me ‘bossman’ when I fucked her.”
“What about Tracey Aucoin?” she asked. “How did you fake the evidence?”
“Ah, I was wondering when you’d bring that up. I bet he doesn’t even remember who she was,” he replied, looking pleased with himself.
“No. He doesn’t,” she answered.
He sighed and leaned forward. “Can’t say as I’m surprised. The only woman he could see was you. All the others may as well have been potted ferns, much to poor Tracey’s dismay. Came to the Cove continually, trying to get him for herself. Took all his “darlin’s” and “babe’s” as signs of interest. She came to your show… that’s how we met. I was there watching you. She was there watching him. I pointed you out and told her that unless she could magically transform into a creature as magnificent as you, she may as well give up on Ben.”
“And she went with you instead?” she asked.
“Does that surprise you?”
“No, Ethan. You’re good looking, successful, smart…” she began.
“Now you’re trying too hard. Stop trying so hard and just ask me the question. I know you’re dying to know,” he said. He motioned to Terrance, “Him, too.”
“How did you get Ben’s semen?” she asked.
“That was a pretty good trick, wasn’t it? And you made it all possible. It was so lovely to watch you orgasm on that pool table, I came with you,” he said, dreamily. “You really are a goddess.”
“How did you get into the Cove?” she asked.
“Oh that? Sheer luck. I’d rather be lucky than good any day of the week, wouldn’t you?” He smiled beginning to enjoy himself. “I needed some receipts. They were sitting on Ben’s desk but he shoved us all out. So, I asked Josh if he would meet me back there in the morning. But Josh, he was more than a little drunk and had plans with some sweet little thing. He gave me his keys and wrote down the alarm code. Made me promise not to tell Ben,” he explained. “He probably doesn’t even remember doing it. I slipped the keys into his mailbox that night. I imagine he found them on the floor the next morning and figured they had fallen out of his pocket.”
“So you stole the condom and planted the evidence,” she confirmed.
“I did, indeed,” he replied.
“You killed Tracey Aucoin,” she confirmed.
“Sweet angel, I killed them all,” he said. “Angela was an accident. She wanted to leave me. To try to make things right with Ben. But we had done things together that I’d never even thought of trying and I loved it. I loved that this divine being would let me have so much control over her. When we fought and I hit her, she wasn’t afraid. She liked it. She put my hands around her neck and told me to strangle her. I watched the life drain out of her. It went too far, but she didn’t even struggle. My god, she was so beautiful,” he said looking at Q intently.
“What about the tattoo?” she asked.
“Angela loved that drawing, loved it so much she demanded that I get the same design. Said she loved to watch it move on a man’s chest while she moved with him. Do you like the way it feels under your fingers, my angel?” he asked. “You’re going to have a hard time convincing your next man to copy it after Ben leaves you."
Q looked at him directly and replied, “I’ve never been a big fan of tattoos.”
He smiled smugly, before turning to Terrance. “Mr. Fauchaux, please get me a pen and paper, if you’d be so kind. I’ll formally confess to the killing of, oh let’s see…” He silently counted in his head. “…Thirteen women. Three of whom will be good news for Ben. Two more will be even better news to a couple of poor souls sitting in Angola.”
"On what condition?" Terrance asked in surprise.
"No condition. It seems as though it's time for me to join my Angela," he answered calmly.
“Thank you, Ethan,” she said quietly.
“I wouldn’t thank me, yet, my angel,” he said calmly. “You still haven’t seen Ben. I'm fairly certain that you're mine already. You just haven't admitted it yet.”
~~~
Q stepped off the streetcar, heavily burdened with three large bags of groceries. She nodded at Frank as he got into his car and pulled away before climbing the steps to her house. Ben was set to be released at any moment and she wanted some semblance of a meal ready when he arrived, even if he didn’t want to see her. Since her interview with Ethan, Ben had refused to take her visitation and he hadn’t called. Lucy had passed her a message in Ben’s neat print that read:
I can’t see you right now, Clementine. Please understand.
The words burned in her mind and kept her from focusing on anything but what was in front of her. The two nights of Rebel Angels performances had been torture. Her throat protested so roughly against any vocalization that she’d barely made it through the two shows. The only thing that made them endurable was knowing that Ben would be released and would no longer be able to avoid her.
The bureaucratic minefield to get his release had been almost impossible to negotiate. Terrance Fauchaux had a signed confession for the murders Ben was about to go to the grand jury for, but it took three judges and a dozen clerks to get his release secured. Sanger finally saved them from a further descent down the organizational rabbit hole by providing the D.A. with concrete evidence of Gabrielli planting and destroying evidence. By providing the District Attorney with an easy scapegoat to blame for the gross miscarriage of justice, Sanger easily managed to get himself reinstated on the force and get Ben’s release secured simultaneously. Lucy had filed a civil complaint against Vincent Gabrielli before the ink had barely dried on Sanger’s deal.
I can’t see you right now, Clementine. Please understand.
Q unlocked the door and walked inside the house. The alarm was already off and she saw an envelope of Orleans Parish custody release papers on the foyer table. She set the groceries down on the table and climbed the stairs.
“Ben?” she called out, nervously, her voice still raw.
She found him sitting on their bed. Already showered and dressed in a clean t-shirt and a pair of faded black cargo shorts, his feet still bare. A suitcase sat beside his legs on the floor.
She swallowed around the inflammation that still swelled above her larynx. “You’re home,” she said.
He looked at her, his face devoid of emotion.
“Where were you?” he asked, simply.
“Grocery shopping,” she said, eyeing the suitcase with suspicion. “We didn’t have much. You know me. I’d live on yogurt and vodka if you’d let me.”
She wanted to run to him, hold him, feel his heart against hers, but the hurt on his face stopped her.
“Is it true?” he asked. “What Ethan said?”
Q covered her mouth with her hand briefly. Her entire body demanded to eject its contents.
“I don’t know what he said,” she replied, stalling for time.
“He forced you touch him. He wrapped his hands around your throat and watched you struggle to breath,” Ben said, his jaw set.
She self-consciously covered the marks that the skin on her neck still bore. “Ben, he wanted you to be mad, to hate me, that’s why he said those things …” she started.
Ben looked up at her and asked, “So you’re saying it’s not true. He lied? He didn’t strangle you? You got those marks on your neck, how?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s true,” she said, her voice breaking. She quickly continued, “I don’t know what happened, Ben. He was attacking me, making me….”
“Touch his cock,” Ben finished.
She looked down briefly before explaining, “I had to make him think I wanted him. I had to do…what he wanted, at least to a point, to get him to say something…Sanger fixed me up with a wire. You have to understand; we were out of time. If I couldn’t get him to admit to one murder, we had nothing.” she rattled off a stream of excuses, trying to find the right one, until she finally arrived at the one reason she hadn’t even admitted to herself. “When I got away from him and he ran away, all I could think of was Strickland and all those broken women and I wanted to kill him. I wanted to beat him, the way he beat those women. I shouldn’t have followed him. But I wanted him to admit what he did and then make him pay for it. I can’t explain it any other way, baby.”
“You can’t explain it any other way? Letting the man that killed Angie. That killed Strickland. That killed Beth. Letting him get near enough for him to sexually assault you and strangle you, almost kill you, too…that was the only way??” he asked. Grief broke his cold exterior and he began to cry. “My god, Clementine, why would you do that to yourself?”
Q eyed the suitcase again, apprehensively. “Ben, what’s with the suitcase?” she asked quietly.
“Answer the fucking question, Clementine!” he exploded, standing up.
Despite herself, Q backed away. Ben’s intimidating frame was made menacing with anger and pain. She caught herself cowering and forced herself to stand straight and hold her ground. “To save your life!” she shouted back. “That’s what all this was for, Ben! Yes, it was risky, but Sanger was listening and Urian was supposed to be right behind us. Aaron held him back until he was sure Ethan was doing something he could be arrested for. So, I held on, Ben. I held on.”
Ben fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around her, pleading, “Why would you put yourself in danger like that, for anyone?”
Q slid to the ground and took his face in her hands. “You’re not anyone. I don’t know how to be without you.”
He held her to his chest and she allowed herself to be briefly comforted by his warmth before asking, “Are you leaving me?”
“I can’t stay here.”
She felt her world tilt and she collapsed into him, unable to support herself. Ben held onto her, saying gently, “Clementine, you have to understand. I can’t be here right now. You were attacked and almost got yourself killed, and it’s my fault. This whole thing is my fault and I don’t know how to make this right.”
She pulled herself up and pushed him away violently, saying bitterly, “Well leaving me won’t put things right. Maybe for you, but not for me.”
She walked to the bed and sat down in defeat, her knees barely supporting her. Ben sat beside her. “I’m not leaving you, darlin’. I want to be someplace where it can be just you and me, to get back to where we were. It just can’t be here.”
As Q looked at him in confusion, the doorbell rang. He sighed, “That’ll be my family. I called them to let them know we were leaving tonight. Both of us. Henry has the guest house ready and the tickets are already bought. We're going to get through this.”
She sat in stunned silence. Ben continued, “Only problem is, I found out you don’t have much in the way of beach attire when I tried to get you packed. We’ll have to fix that when we get there.”
He stood her up and she walked to the closet to change, her knees barely supporting her. She started to undress when her legs finally gave up and she sank to the ground. As Ben moved to comfort her, the doorbell rang again impatiently. He groaned in frustration, “Get changed and come on down when you're ready. I meant what I said, darlin’. We’ll get through it.”
He left the room and Q pulled on her only sundress and a pair of sandals, her skin burning to touch Ben, to feel his warmth, to wash away the memory of Ethan that still lingered.
She walked downstairs and into the happy throng of Bordelons and Bordelon-adjacents in the foyer. She accepted several congratulatory hugs and kisses before making her way to Ben. She took his hand and roughly pulled him away from his family, who became noticeably quieter as she separated the prodigal son from their grasp.
“I’m sorry, but y’all are just going to have to wait a minute,” she shouted firmly, pulling Ben into the kitchen.
She pushed him into the guest room off the back porch and slammed the door behind her. “Are we ok?” she demanded.
When he didn’t reply, she pushed him hard and he fell back onto the bed. He looked at her helplessly. “I don’t know what to do, darlin’. I don’t know how to be after this. All I’ve been thinking about these past few weeks is being with you again. Kissing you. Making love with you. Watching you eat biscuits on a Sunday morning. How does that make me any different from him?”
“I seriously doubt Ethan had any dreams of watching me eat homemade biscuits,” she said dryly. When Ben didn’t laugh, she said, “The difference is I love you. I’ve been dreaming about those things, too.”
She walked to him and he held her face in her hands.
“Why would you do this for me?” he asked, his voice breaking.
“I didn’t confront Ethan for you, Ben. I did this for me, not you," she finally admitted. "I needed to take him on to prove to myself that I'm strong now. No one will hurt me like that again. And I was... I am. Because of you.”
She rested her forehead on his and he wrapped his arms around her, his heat radiating through her. Q's lips found his, tentative, uncertain. She kissed him more deeply, wanting to be as near to him as possible. As Ben’s hands held her more tightly, her body shuddered and she moaned into his kiss. He slid his hands under her dress and pulled it over her head. She held his face to her body, guiding him, feeling washed clean by his touch.
He was kissing her belly button and in the process of pulling down her underwear, when they hear a hesitant knock on the door.
“Ben, baby?” His mother called through the door.
“Give us a minute, Ma,” Ben answered, his voice slightly breathless with arousal.
“We’re gonna go take over that Thai place just up the street on Carrollton. Get some beer and some appetizers. Y’all finish packing for your trip and meet us over there,” she said. “Take your time.”
Q started to laugh. Giddy with relief, unable to stop her sudden hysterical amusement. Ben soon joined her. They fell back onto the bed and lay side by side looking at one another, each enjoying seeing the other happy and relaxed. When she finally caught her breath, she pulled herself over to straddle Ben. She breathed in his warmth and smiled down at him.
“I love you, Ben Bordelon. Will you marry me?” she asked.
Ben pulled her to him and said, “Yes, ma’am.”
He rolled her over and began gently kissing her neck where traces of Ethan’s stranglehold still lingered.
“I guess we should close up the house and go meet everyone,” she said, arching her neck to guide his lips.
“Mama said I should take my time,” his voice whispered in her ear. “You know me; I always do what my mama says.”
THE END
Author’s Notes
While QT and The Beasts is a fictional New Orleans band, some of the music described in this book is not. QT and The Beasts set list at Lafitte’s Cove includes the following songs:
Angel Eyes – lyrics by Earl Brent
In the Dark – Nina Simone
Other songs referenced in passing:
The Heart’s Filthy Lesson – David Bowie
Bloodsport – The Sneaker Pimps
Do You Love Me – Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
Sadie, Sadie Married Lady – Lyrics by Bob Merrill
And of course, the Best of Bon Jovi
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
W.E. DeVore is a musician, producer, and audio engineer who currently pays the bills by writing technical manuals and specifications for professional audio products. In her career as a musician and sometimes rock star babysitter, she has been fortunate to know some of the most entertaining and unique individuals that seem to only grow from the Louisiana soil. She's also experienced some things that a nice Jewish girl from Montana probably shouldn't know about - but it does make excellent fodder for a little fiction. DeVore has lived in Southeast Louisiana for the last two decades and currently lives in Baton Rouge, although her heart will always be in New Orleans - sweaty, dirty, crime-ridden, music-filled wonderland that it is.
To learn more, visit www.wedevore.com.
Follow on Twitter: @wedevore
Like on Facebook: www.facebook.com/wedevore
W E DeVore, Devil Take Me Down
