Veil of Crimson

Hitting A Brick Wall

As soon as we talk to the manager of the company, we get pointed to our suspect. He was aware of the conflict and was trying to make the two coworkers resolve it peacefully. It was actually the victim who refused to back off. He wanted to get Santiago fired for stealing from him.

We’re just walking to the back of the building, where the workers hang out after lunch. We were lucky to get here just in time for their break. I don’t think much as I pull my badge out, showing it to the men nearby.

“Detective Gauthier, Officer Perez from NOPD. Can you point us to Leonard Santiago?” I say, earning myself a reaction I don’t expect. One of the men bolts from the spot straight away, running away from us like his heels are on fire.

I curse under my breath as I shoot after him, pushing myself to my limit. Damn, this one is fast. He keeps looking over his shoulder, which happens to be his downfall. I manage to predict which way he’s going to turn and cut into it just as he’s about to climb over the railing.

I grab him by the collar and pull him off, grabbing his arms and putting them together behind his back. “You’re under arrest, Mr. Santiago,” I inform him as I clasp the handcuffs around his wrists. He doesn’t seem happy about that.

“What for? What did I do?” he snaps over his shoulder, while I grab him and lead him away. Towards my loaded car. He’s going to have to squeeze next to my bags of clothes a little bit. Too bad that he felt the urge to run away.

“For starters, you were trying to escape from the police,” I inform him, making him let out an unconvinced scoff. “So, you’re coming to the station with us, where I can decide if you belong behind bars or not,” I continue.

He wriggles under my grasp. “What?! What the hell do you think I did?” he keeps protesting, making me dig my fingers deeper into the flesh of his arm. He winces in pain, but I don’t loosen my grip. I hate it when a man thinks he can raise his voice at me.

“I think a lot, but it doesn’t help me, until I can prove it. You’re a suspect for the murder of Gale Roberts,” I inform him coldly. That seems to knock him off his feet, because he stares at me in shock, barely able to move.

He doesn’t say a word, until we get back to the station. He doesn’t even comment on the mess in the back of the car. Well, a girl has to put all her stuff somewhere. Natalie doesn’t say anything to it either, but I can tell she’s curious. I kind of admire her for not asking any questions.

As we lead the man into the station, we’re awaited with some sort of a chaos. I mean, our office is never exactly quiet, because people are going in and out all the time. But this … I don’t know, it’s almost ridiculously loud.

Soon enough, I realize what’s it all about. And as I do, my face falls. What the hell is this now? What is he doing here? I told him not to leave the country, not to come molest me at my workplace!

I grab Santiago even more tightly, leading him down the stairs to get to the center of all attention. Adrian LeBlanc. I don’t know why I’m surprised. We don’t get many visits from influential people of New Orleans at the office, so naturally, everyone that can spare five minutes of their time, is surrounding him.

I glance at Natalie, basically fuming. She notices, but doesn’t say anything. “Natalie, please lead Mr. Santiago in the questioning room. I’ll be right with you, I just have to take care of something first,” I instruct her. She nods in understanding, keeping her expression serious as she leads the man away.

My gaze fixates itself on LeBlanc, who seems to be enjoying all the attention. Especially from female officers. Jerk. I’m going to put an end to this right away. I can’t help but notice they’re all gathered around my desk. And he’s leaning his backside on its edge.

“What is the meaning of this?” I want to know as soon as I get close enough. Most of my coworkers get back to work the moment they realize who’s breaking the party apart. LeBlanc smirks at sight of my frustrated face.

“Detective, how wonderful of you to grace me with your presence,” he speaks up, making my blood start boiling in an instant. Someone please carry this clown out of here, before I lose my temper.

I glare at the rest of the officers, who don’t seem to understand that they need to get away from my workplace. As they finally do, I turn back to the man, my jaw clenching. “What are you doing here, Mr. LeBlanc?” I want to know.

He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Darling, I already told you to call me Adrian,” he tells me, his blue-eyed gaze making me feel like it’s piercing through my skull. I already draw in a sharp breath, but he’s clearly not finished. “I came here for your name,” he then says, making my eye twitch.

He can’t be for real. “Excuse me?” I say, a hundred percent sure that he’s toying with me. I blink furiously, trying to keep my cool. He stares at me blankly, but I can tell he’s having the time of his life, doing this. Oh, I’ll show this jackass … I cross my arms against my chest. “How did you get to my desk then, if you didn’t know my name?” I wonder.

I narrow my eyes at him, waiting for what excuse he’s going to conjure out of thin air. I do policework for a living. What did he think? That I wouldn’t see right through him? He finally glues his ass off my desk, approaching me with a charming smile. “I simply asked them to point me to the prettiest homicide detective in the station.”

I glare at him, not knowing what else to say in response. I can’t exactly tell him to f**k off, can I? No matter how tempted I am. So, I decide to surprise him. I’m sure he’s expecting more resistance, so I’m going to do the exact opposite. I extend my hand, waiting for him to grab it, before saying: “Elise Gauthier.”

His lips spread into a smile and I can’t help but stare back at him, drowning in that endless blue. His eyes look like the ocean on an especially sunny day. They’re so vivid that they almost make my head hurt. “Pleasure to meet you, Elise. That name is almost prettier than you are,” he keeps flirting with me. Or at least attempts to.

I pull my hand out of his grasp, ignoring the gut punch that his drilling gaze is making me feel. “It’s Detective Gauthier for you,” I turn him down coldly, then narrow my eyes at him. “Now, Mr. LeBlanc, unless you have anything useful to offer, I’d like to ask you to remove yourself from the station and get back to whatever or whoever you were just doing before you came here,” I tell him before I’m able to stop myself.

He chuckles at my open attack, licking his lips in a way that makes my insides twist. Damn, he’s a hot one. If only he wasn’t so damn infuriating. “Of course I have something useful to offer. Myself!” he exclaims, making an effort to point at his body.

I stare at him, not even blinking for a moment. He can’t be for real. Did he really just … Never mind, I don’t have time for this. I have a suspect to question. “Whatever you mean with that, the answer is no. Hard pass,” I remark dryly.

He tilts his head slightly. “Come on, you seem like you could use a hand in this investigation. And I have resources that NOPD surely can’t offer,” he tries to persuade me into changing my mind. His words finally make me realize what he’s actually offering.

I stare at him in wonder, before bursting into laughter. I can’t help myself. This guy is so sure of himself, that he’s trying to meddle into a police investigation? He blinks in surprise, while I have to try really hard to pull myself together.

I shake my head in an apologetic way. “Sorry. The answer is still no, Mr. LeBlanc. You’re a murder suspect, you can’t help us investigate that same murder. And I’m sure our resources are just fine. Now, if you will please let me get back to work,” I tell him, getting frustrated again after the amusement wears off.

He straightens his suit, shrugging in response. “Alright. I offered my services. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. I have a feeling you’ll be seeking me out sooner than you think,” he tells me, something dark crossing his eyes.

I search his gaze with mine, trying to figure out if I have a killer standing in front of me, or if the murder happening in his restaurant was just a coincidence. “Yeah, I don’t think so … Have a nice day, Mr. LeBlanc,” I greet him.

He sends me a flirtatious wink before heading off. “Good day, Detective,” he greets me back. I can’t help but turn my head after him and watch him leave. I don’t know what it is about him, but this man is a complete mystery to me. And I’m not sure if that intrigues me or scares me.

I shake off the intrusive thoughts that I really didn’t want inside my mind, then head to the questioning room. Natalie is waiting for me patiently, and Santiago is sitting opposite her, looking like he’s about to have a nervous breakdown.

I sit down next to her, ignoring the curios glance she sends my way. “Did you already go through the standard questions?” I ask her, and she shakes her head. It’s okay, it’s best if we’re both here for this.

“No, Detective, I was waiting for you,” she answers, while I’m already nodding in a dismissive way. It doesn’t matter, we’ll just deal with it now. This better turns out to be useful, or else I’m going to start pulling my hair out.

I can’t leave my first case unsolved. I’m going to keep digging into this, until I find out the truth. Even if I have to stay up day and night to get to the bottom of it.

“Alright then. Mr. Santiago, where were you this morning between eight and nine this morning?” I begin, turning my head towards our newest suspect. He’s pale and frankly, he looks like he’s about to s**t his pants.

This one hasn’t been in contact with law enforcement many times. “I was out … I was fixing a plumbing installation at an apartment building in Gentilly,” he answers. I stare at him, trying to figure out if he’s lying or not. He seems honest enough, but we’re not here to believe people’s words.

“Natalie, please check it out later. There must have been someone who’s been in contact with him,” I instruct her, before turning my head back to the suspect. If his alibi checks out, there’s no use asking him the questions I’m about to ask him. But still. I have to try. “Why weren’t you getting along with Mr. Roberts?”

He blinks in confusion. “I got along with Gale really well!” he protests, but I’m quicker than he is.

“Then why did you jeopardize that relationship in order to get some money?” I wonder, putting my hands together on the desk. He seems surprised.

“You know …” he trails off, suddenly looking ashamed of himself. “Look, my situation at home … It’s not the best. I was too embarrassed to ask for money, and I thought Gale wouldn’t make a big deal of a few bucks missing from his wallet. I … I meant to pay him back as soon as I could, you know … Leave them in his locker as a nice surprise,” he explains.

I stare at him calmly. “But things escalated. Mr. Roberts caught you stealing from him and you got mad when he confronted you. He could ruin your career. Of course, you wanted to kill him,” I press on him, trying to get him to talk under pressure.

He shakes his head, furrowing his eyebrows in response. “No way Gale would do that! He was my friend!” he protests again, surprising me a little. So, he wasn’t aware that he tried to get him fired. Interesting.

“So you don’t deny killing him?” I keep testing him, making him jump up from the chair. If he’s trying to be intimidating, it’s not working. He actually looks a little ridiculous with his hands chained behind his back.

“I would never kill anyone, let alone my friend! You’re accusing me on false pretenses! I want to call my lawyer!” he raises his voice, but I keep staring at him calmly, already having a feeling that our suspect is soon going to become useless.

“Then why did you run away, when I tried to talk to you?” I ask, crossing my arms against my chest curiously. He stares at me angrily, his chest flaring. But he doesn’t keep it up for long.

He sits back down, then finally answers. “I thought I was in trouble for stealing from Gale … I mean, you just started chasing after me, how the hell was I supposed to just stand there calmly? I had to do something,” he protests, averting his gaze into the desk.

I let out a long sigh, glancing at Natalie, before getting up from my seat and walking over to our suspect to unlock the handcuffs. “You’re free to go for now, Mr. Santiago. But don’t leave the country. Tell your lawyer that, if you still want to call him,” I suggest.

Ten minutes later, I’m sitting behind my desk, going through the paperwork from my first ever investigation as a detective. My headache is getting worse. Natalie called the landlord of the apartment building that Santiago was supposedly working at this morning. His alibi checks out. He couldn’t have killed his coworker.

I bury my head into my hands, staring at all the information that we gathered. It seems almost useless. I let out a frustrated sigh. I don’t know why, but I can’t get LeBlanc out of my head. I somehow have a feeling that he’s involved. And let’s be clear, him being first to the crime scene doesn’t exactly paint him as innocent. No matter what his chef says.

He could be holding something resembling a phone, an object that was actually the murder weapon. Mr. Rousseau can’t stand blood. He escaped back into the kitchen as soon as he saw a dead body. That would give Mr. LeBlanc plenty of time to hide the murder weapon, and then call the police.

I straighten up. I’m going to look into this man. Something about him doesn’t add up. Murderers are proven to possess sociopathic tendencies in most cases. The way he burst into the station earlier and gloated in attention is worrying. It fits the profile of serial killers.

I feel uneasy as I start researching. It’s late afternoon and I should be apartment hunting, but I can’t do it, until I actually get something useful done. And I have a feeling that looking into Adrian LeBlanc is exactly what’s going to help this investigation.