| |
Evangeline
I EXITED THE market and walked to the parking lot where I found Sheriff Andrew Clarke leaning against my car, waiting for me.
“Wh...what are you doing here? In Boston? Standing in front of my car...and me?”
“Surprise,” Clarke said, casually.
My shock began to turn to fear.
“With all the traveling you’ve been doing lately, I thought I’d better come to you, or we might never see each other again.”
“Traveling I’ve been doing? Have you been following me?”
“Just keeping tabs on a person of interest, that’s all.”
“I thought you said I wasn’t a person of interest.”
“Let’s just say since we first met, you’ve become more interesting by the minute.”
Clarke’s demeanor told me he had the upper hand. He obviously knew something I didn’t, but he didn’t have his gun drawn and I wasn’t in cuffs.
“You want to tell me what this is all really about?”
“You wanna tell me how you got that shiner?” he asked.
I brushed my hair over my right eye.
“I’m guessing Reginald White gave you that the night you killed him. He must have put up some fight, am I right?”
Fear turned to terror. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t do that Evangeline. We both know you’re too smart to play dumb. Get in my car.” He unlocked his car and held the passenger door open for me.
“What a gentleman,” I said snidely.
“Before you get in, I have to frisk you for any weapons.”
“Go fuck yourself,” I snapped.
“Evangeline. We both know I could arrest you right here and now, but I don’t want to do that. All I want to do is get into the car and talk but before we do that, I need to know that I’m safe.”
“Cop a feel, lose a finger,” I said, slowly raising my hands above my head.
“Okay, all clear,” he said after a brief, and non-grabby frisk. “Thank you.”
Once inside the car, Clarke started, “I know you were in Detroit the night Reginald White was killed and I know it was you who killed him.”
“Reginald who?” I asked.
Clarke huffed. “I thought we were gonna talk.”
“We’re talking. You’re accusing me of murder and I’m telling you for the second time now to go fuck yourself.”
“Okay, fine. You don’t want to play straight with me? Let me do all the talking then. I know you killed Reginald White, and I can prove it. I also suspect you of killing Judge Faulkner, George Hanford, and Henry Duplass, and have enough circumstantial evidence to arrest you for those crimes as well.”
“What about JFK’s assassination?” I challenged. “Did I kill him too?”
“The only reason that you’re in my car instead of a jail cell is because of me. Believe me when I tell you that I am the only friend you have in the whole world right now. One phone call and I can write my own ticket within any law enforcement agency in the country. Catching a female serial killer, are you kidding me? The book deal alone would make me millions. You, on the other hand, would be tried and convicted of multiple homicides and would go straight to death row inside a maximum-security penitentiary.”
“If you’re so sure I’m guilty, why don’t you make your move? Bring me in and play the big hero.”
“Because I don’t care that those men are dead, and I don’t care that you killed them. In fact, I understand why you did it. Even more, I applaud the fact that you’ve killed at least four men and have somehow managed to fly under the radar of both the police and the FBI.”
I studied Clarke’s face intently. I’d heard him spit out enough bullshit to know he was telling me the truth. Although I still had no idea what his game was.
“If your plan is to blackmail me, I suggest you check my financial records closely. Everything I earn goes into Papillion House. And if you try and take one red cent from those children, I won’t need a weapon to stop you.”
“There she is,” Clarke said with a sly smile.
“What are you talking about?”
“The entire time I’ve spent with you I’ve tried to picture you as a killer, and I could never do it. My brain simply couldn’t draw a parallel between the woman I knew and a cold-blooded butcher, but now I see her.”
“What the fuck do you want, Clarke?”
“That’s not the question. The question is what I can do for you, and the answer to that is twofold. First, I can keep you out of prison by staying quiet about your extracurricular activities. Second, I can help you continue without getting caught.”
“What?” I asked, truly unsure of what I’d just heard. “You want to help me?”
“It’s only a matter of time before someone in law enforcement finds you. Until now you’ve been clever in not establishing obvious patterns, and no one besides me has put the pieces together, but if I can find you, someone else can too. They can and they will. If you let me assist you, I can not only help cover your tracks, but teach you how not to leave them in the first place.”
“Why would you want to help me?”
“To put it simply, I believe in your cause, and I’ve lost faith in mine. I’ve seen a lot of horrible people do truly fucked up things to people who they claim to love. Most of the time, there was little I could do about it. Even with a badge and a gun, my hands are tied. But you have the ability to balance the scales of justice with your own two hands, and I want to help you do that.”
“If that’s the simple answer, what’s the complex one?”
“I want to help and protect you because I’m in love with you, Evangeline.”
“We went on one date, Clarke, you can’t be in love with me.”
“I’ve been studying you for months. I know you. I understand you. You and I, we’re not like other people. We both know full well how cruel and dark the world can be, and we both decided to do something about it. I became a cop, and you became a vigilante. Is there really any difference when it comes to bringing human filth to justice? I mean, when I arrest some pedophile piece of shit, I’m hoping and praying he’ll be locked up for life or put to death. But the truth is that fucking scumbag will be back on the streets within six months and we both know it. You simply make sure that doesn’t happen. How can I judge you for that when we both wanted the same outcome?”
“So, you want to help me commit murder because you love me?”
“Is that really so hard to believe? You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. And you’re clearly the bravest of souls. You’re intelligent, funny, and know how to handle yourself. How could I not fall in love with you?”
“I assume the price for your silence and protection is sex.”
Clarke’s face fell. “No, no, you don’t understand. I respect you. I want us to be together. I’d never treat you like that. Like a whore. I’m only hoping that in time you’ll learn to love me the way I love you. I want to earn your trust and respect. I’d also hoped that you’d want to have sex with me like you did the night of our first date.”
Clarke looked like a lovesick puppy.
A puppy I may have to put down if I couldn’t find a way to get him out of my henhouse.
“If you know me so well, you know I need time to process.”
“Of course. You have forty-eight hours to let me know if we’re in this together or on opposite sides of the law.”
I nodded and opened the door.
“Be smart, Evangeline,” he added as I slid out of his car.
I walked as calmly as I could to my own and then headed home, calling Shep on the way.
He answered on the first ring. “Hey, beautiful, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Ah, I was wondering if you’d like some company for a few days?”
“Is that company you?” he joked.
“Funny.”
“Yeah, you’re always welcome. Give me your flight details and I’ll pick you up.”
“I can grab a car if you’re working,” I countered.
“Let’s start with your flight details and go from there.”
“Okay, I’ll text them to you when I’m back at my computer.”
“You okay?”
“I will be,” I said, pulling up to my home and pulling into my garage.
“You sound off, what’s goin’ on?”
“I’ll fill you in when we’re face-to-face.”
He sighed. “Shit, that doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s fine. I just need to see you.”
“Okay, well, then do your thing.”
“Thanks, Shep.”
“You bet. You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. I’m sure,” I lied.
“Okay, honey. See you soon.”
“See you soon,” I parroted, and then we rang off.
I rushed inside and found a red-eye to Nashville, then fired off a text with my flight information to Shep. Once he confirmed he could pick me up, I packed a bag, then let the office know I’d be gone for a few days. Luckily, they were used to me disappearing for days at a time, so they were prepared.
* * *
Shep ended up having an early job, so I grabbed a car and headed to the same hotel I’d stayed at previously. It gave me some time to decompress after the flight and I was even able to grab a nap, although, it was a fitful one.
Shep picked me up just before six and his lips were on mine the second I opened the door.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Well, hi, yourself,” I breathed out.
“Jesus, I missed you.”
I smiled. “What did I say about not falling in love with me.”
He laughed. “You’re not the boss of me.”
“Hm-mm,” I sassed. “So you say.”
“If we didn’t have a reservation and Charlie wasn’t a good friend, I’d blow dinner off and fuck you right now.”
I shivered. “How close of a friend?”
“Close enough to keep my commitment.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Then stop tempting me and let’s go.”
He frowned and I cocked my head. “What?”
“What the fuck happened to your eye?”
“Oh, crap, I thought I covered that enough.” I let out a sigh, rushing to the mirror. “I was unloading my dishwasher and smacked it when I opened a cabinet.”
“Let me look at it,” he demanded.
“It’s fine, Shep. Seriously. Just a little bruise. Nothing’s broken. I had it all checked out,” I lied. “Just ice and ibuprofen, and it’ll be gone in a few days.”
“Does it still hurt?”
“Not much.”
“Let me know if that changes.”
“I will,” I promised.
He kissed me once more and led me down to his truck.
Once at the restaurant, we were seated near the window overlooking a gorgeous park, and the chef came out to greet us within minutes. He and Shep hugged, then Shep introduced us.
“Charlie gave me my very first job as a chef. Well, first as a part-time sous chef, part-time dishwasher, but eventually—”
“Eventually, he became useful in the kitchen. And then, as soon as he knew his elbow from a frying pan, was off on his own, cooking for fancy people. And now, he brings a fancy woman into my restaurant.”
“It’s true. I owe all my success to Charlie.”
“That’s all I wanted to hear. Now, I can go into the kitchen and put the finishing touches on your first course.”
“He’s the best, isn’t he?” Shep asked.
“You’re the best,” I said, taking his hand in mine. “Everywhere we go, you’re like a beacon of light or something.”
“Are you calling me a lighthouse?”
I laughed. “I guess I am.”
Just then Charlie returned with our soups.
“Our soup du jour is a beautiful gazpacho made from vegetables grown in our very own garden. Please enjoy.”
I blew on my spoon before taking a sip of the beautifully presented soup but found it to be far from scalding hot.
“What’s the matter? Is your gazpacho okay?” Shep asked.
“I don’t want to embarrass your friend by sending this back, but they forgot to heat mine up. It’s completely cold.”
Shep smiled, stifling a laugh. “Gazpacho is typically served chilled. Would you like them to bring you something else?”
I hid my face in my hands. “Don’t you dare,” I said, feeling completely mortified. “I’m going to eat every spoonful of this and you’re not going to say a single word. Understand?”
“Of course,” Shep said, nodding in agreement, just before waving Charlie over.
“How is your gazpacho?” Charlie asked.
“Well, Evangeline told me it’s the best gazpacho she’s had in her entire life, but to tell you the truth, I’ve never been a cold soup kind of guy.”
“Say no more, I’ll bring you both a selection of appetizers. It’ll be my pleasure.”
“Thank you, Chuck,” Shep said.
“Boy, you are quite the charmer, aren’t you?”
But Shep’s expression suddenly turned serious.
“You, okay?” I asked.
“Have you ever had trouble with stalkers? Being a famous author and all that?”
I laughed. “If I were famous we’d have gotten a better table tonight.”
“Don’t look now, but there’s a guy standing outside, and he’s staring right at us through the window. When I say I want you to casually glance to your left, but do not react to his presence in any way. Got it?”
I smiled and nodded.
“Good,” Shep replied, followed by a fake laugh, and then, “Okay, now.”
I slowly and calmly looked out the window to our left to see Clarke standing on the sidewalk, staring directly at us. The instant we made eye contact, he smiled and waved.
My heart jumped into my throat.
“Do you know that guy?” Shep asked.
I somehow found the strength to paste on a smile through my terror and wave back.
“Actually, I do. Will you please excuse me for a minute? I should go talk to him,” I said, practically sprinting for the exit.”
Clarke was waiting to greet me with open arms.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, my phony smile still in place.
As we hugged Clarke growled into my ear, “Who the fuck is this guy you’re with?”
I broke our embrace and looked through the window to find Shep watching us intently.
“Shep is a friend who I met last time I was in Nashville. He catered an event where I was the speaker. He’s a chef and he invited me here to his friend’s restaurant.”
“Ah, that explains everything except what the fuck you’re doing in Nashville, when you’re supposed to be giving me an answer.”
“I’m confused. You said I had forty-eight hours to let you know. I left town to clear my head and think—”
“Don’t try and fuck with me, Evangeline. I gave you that time to think about my offer as a courtesy to you. The decision has already been made, hasn’t it? I mean, what other choice do you have?”
“Choice about what?” I heard Shep’s voice ring out from behind me.
“I’m sorry?” Clarke asked.
“Pardon me for interrupting, but Evangeline left our table so quickly, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“I’m alright, thank you, Shep. This is Andrew Clarke. He’s an old acquaintance.”
Clarke squeezed out the word “friend” just as I was saying acquaintance.
“Yes, Clarke is an old friendly acquaintance.”
“Pleased to meet you, Andrew,” Shep said, extending his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Shep. Please, call me Clarke.”
“Clarke saw us in the window and stopped to say hi,” I said.
“Yeah, it was kinda funny running into Evangeline here in Nashville rather than where she’s supposed to be.”
“Supposed to be?” Shep asked.
“Ah, you know what I mean. Where I’d normally find her.”
“I see,” Shep said, sounding unconvinced.
“How do you know Evangeline?” Clarke asked.
“We met just a little while ago and found out quickly that we enjoy each other’s company quite a bit,” I said.
Clark broke into an unsettling smile. “Is that so? Two little lovebirds in the making. Isn’t that adorable.”
“Yeah, well. We should probably get back inside before our cold soup gets warm,” Shep said before turning to me. “You okay to come back with me or does your friend Clarke need you to make some sort of choice? I heard y’all right, didn’t I? Clarke wanted you to make a choice about something. Sounded important too.”
Clarke shook his head. “Nothing we need to bother you with. Besides, I think she knows what she needs to do about Reggie.”
“Goodnight, then,” Shep said, taking me by the arm and leading me back into the restaurant.
Shep peeled off three hundred-dollar bills and placed them on the table.
“I’ll drive you home,” Shep said, his voice tight.
“I can grab a car,” I countered.
He leaned down, close to my ear and bit out, “Get your ass out to the parking lot and into my truck, Lina. I’m not gonna say it again.”
I took a deep breath and stood, snatching my purse off the table with a huff, then led him out of the restaurant.
