Veil of Crimson

Glitter Is The Best Cover

My gaze stops on LeBlanc as soon as I open the door to the interrogation room. It turns to a nasty glare the moment he smirks at me. I sit down opposite him, letting out a frustrated breath. “I’m glad you didn’t try to escape yet,” I remark.

His smirk widens and leans forward, taking me in like I’m a doll on display. I narrow my eyes at him. “I wouldn’t miss the moment you realize you’re wrong for a single thing in the world,” he tells me. I stare at him for a moment longer, before throwing the file with photos on the desk.

“Where’s your lawyer?” I ask, making him raise an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to call them here. Just wondering, in case you might need help defending yourself. Why did you keep this from us?” I want to know, glancing at the thin paper folder before returning my gaze to his face, watching his reaction closely.

He opens the file calmly, his expression not shifting even in the slightest as he takes in the secret underground gambling room of his restaurant. He looks at me. “I didn’t keep it from you. It’s not my fault you didn’t find it when you first searched the place,” he remarks. “And my lawyer isn’t coming, because I told him I’d be free by the end of the evening,” he explains.

I narrow my eyes at him again. “Listen to me, Mr. LeBlanc, I want you-”

“You want me?” he cuts in an alluring way, startling me a little. I let out a frustrated huff in response.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I want you to stop withholding information that can help the investigation, because you’re the only one, who-”

“The only one, who makes your heart beat faster?” he continues trying to seduce me.

I groan, unable to keep it together anymore. “Stop interrupting me!” I protest, feeling completely hopeless in this situation, while he seems like he’s having the time of his life.

“I can’t help myself, those red cheeks really suit you. Do you know what else would look good on you?” he wonders in a suggestive tone.

I glare at him. “No, I don’t and I’m sure that I don’t want to find out,” I bark at him, then point my finger at the photos. “Why didn’t you tell us this room exists and that it’s part of a secret tunnel system under the city?” I question him, desperately wanting him to stop trying to throw me off guard. Because it’s working. I’m having trouble remembering what I was trying to say.

“Because I didn’t think it had anything to do with the murder. My first instinct after finding a dead body in my restaurant was going out to check the street for a crazy killer. I thought they were too fast for me to see, but clearly, I was wrong,” he finally makes a statement that can be taken seriously.

I rearrange the photos in front of him, studying his face closely once again. This is the only thing I have left. I only have circumstantial evidence against him. Evidence that isn’t going to put him behind bars. I have no concrete proof. And he won’t confess to it either, he’s way too smart for that.

“Listen to me very carefully, Mr. LeBlanc. I might not be able to hold you in here for much longer, but I’m going to look into your little underground gambling den and check if there’s anything illegal going on in there. If there’s anything you’re not telling me, I swear to God that you’ll be going through orange jumpsuits faster than you can say ‘Detective’,” I tell him, mocking the way he calls me.

He chuckles in response, once again finding the situation amusing. “Oh, Detective. You’re all work and no play. Besides, that gambling den doesn’t belong to me. I only indulge in its … hospitality from time to time. I’ll tell you what. You’re going to come to Fleur de Lys today and I’ll let you meet the town’s most enthusiastic gamblers, what do you say?” he suggests, leaning forward in a cocky way.

I watch him for a moment, not knowing why he’s offering to be helpful all of a sudden. But oddly enough, his words make some sense at least. “Is this a trap?” I ask straightforwardly, making him put his hand against his chest in an overdramatic gesture, making me let out another huff.

“Detective, you offend me. Nothing is going to happen to you, you’ll go undercover. So, lose the uniform, please. I’d love for the red dress to make a comeback, though,” he suggests, making me roll my eyes. As I bring them back to his face, I notice a victorious smile, waiting for me.

“Fine,” I tell him, already making a plan about who I’m going to ask to go with me to the sting. LeBlanc doesn’t have to know that I won’t be alone. And I’ll feel much safer, if I have a mic on me, and someone that I can count on, sitting outside in a van.

He stares at me a moment longer, before whispering: “Does that mean I’m free to go?”

Two minutes later, I’m already watching LeBlanc through the window. He’s walking down the street in his suit, whistling to himself, while I can’t help but wonder what interest he has in helping this case. Other than clearing his name. Which doesn’t really seem to be that interesting to him, actually. He acts like he’s above the law.

Suddenly, someone whistles right next to my ear, startling me so much that I jump in surprise, almost hitting the person in the process. “Whoa, there, El. Being naughty are we? I thought ya were getting married,” Didi remarks, smirking at me.

I let out a long breath, shaking my head at her. “You scared the crap out of me. It’s not what you think, that’s the murder suspect for my case. Except I’m not really sure he is one anymore … And I’m … Well, you might as well hear it from me. I’m not getting married, because Brandon turned out to be a lying, cheating bastard,” I explain.

She gasps, her face falling. “Oh, Gawd. I’m so sorry, Elise, I had no clue. If that’s the case … I’m glad ya got rid of that ol’ prune,” she tells me solemnly, giving me a tight hug. Then, in the next second, she tenses in her arms. “Wait, ya murder suspect who ain’t really a murder suspect is the Adrian LeBlanc?” she then squeals.

My face falls and I forget about my cheating ex-fiancé immediately. I pull away from her, resisting the urge to roll my eyes every time his name comes up. “Yeah, the one and only. I’m not sure what his game is,” I explain, glancing through the window again. He disappears from our sight soon enough, just a little before the next crossroad, where his restaurant stands.

“I’m not either, but I’d sure like to find out. That man is a hawtie,” she remarks from behind me. I can’t help shaking my head at her observation. Yeah, alright, he’s handsome. But that doesn’t save lives.

As I turn back to Didi, I get a bright idea. “Hey, do you happen to be free tonight?”

We set ourselves up at the station, getting a few unprofessional whistles from our colleagues. Though, as I look around, everyone seems to be minding their own business. We changed the plan a little. I asked LeBlanc if I can bring a couple of friends with me and he responded with, I quote: “The more the merrier.”

So, the Lieutenant gave us the green light to operate the sting in the way that I imagined it. Didi, Natalie and I are all going undercover. We’ve done our hair and makeup and we’re all wearing sparkly dresses in order to catch the attention of whatever slimebags are nestling in LeBlanc’s gambling den. I’m not sure what else to call it, even if he said it’s not his. That would explain why I couldn’t find any records about it.

Anyway, we’re just setting up the mics and connecting them to the officers that are going to accompany us in the den. They’re from the homicide department, but I’ve rarely worked with them. I hope I’ll be getting a partner soon. It makes the work a little easier. And I don’t have to ask a different officer to accompany me every time I have to go somewhere.

I step away from the women to test my own mic and camera, then they do the same thing. After we’re ready, we head outside and get in the van. Michael and Jerry are the ones who are going to follow the sting from it. They’ll be our eyes and ears and I truly hope we’ll get something useful out of this. Not just LeBlanc, gloating about himself for the whole night.

We drive around the block and we hop out near the tourist area, so we make it look like we got to the restaurant from a fun afternoon in the center. I hope LeBlanc didn’t get such a good look at Natalie. We made her look completely different, she’s wearing a blonde wig and all, but still. I don’t want to underestimate him.

Didi is clean, he hasn’t seen her face yet and I’m hoping he’ll be paying more attention to her than to Natalie. Anyway, we start walking down Royal Street as soon as our ‘cleaning service’ van drives around the corner, parking near the restaurant.

Just before we enter it, Michael tests our connection one more time: “Alright, girls. Be careful down there and keep an eye on LeBlanc as well. Elise, you said he’s still not off the suspect list, right?”

“Not entirely,” I confirm, before adding: “Don’t worry. I got LeBlanc covered.”

With that, we all quiet down and enter the restaurant. As we stride in, I’m surprised to see the place completely empty. I know that we shut it down today, but I was expecting the chef to ignore us and still open it as we went away.

The restaurant looks clean and it’s lit up like it’s a normal business day. Except there’s only one table set. For four people. “Mr. LeBlanc?” I call out carefully, hoping that this doesn’t go south even sooner than I have a feeling it’s going to.

Not even two seconds later, he already barges out of his office, wearing a white suit with a red patterned vest and a black bowtie. I suddenly don’t feel like I stand out with my gold dress at all. “Ladies, good evening. Welcome to Fleur de Lys,” he greets us happily, while I hold back a sigh. Here we go.

Didi seems so excited that she’s going to faint soon, she stares at him with wide eyes and a bright smile. “Thank you. But you know we came for something else. We’d like to have some extra fun,” I tell him, trying to play the role by sending him a meaningful gaze.

He winks at me in response, making me throw up in my mouth a little. “Of course, darling. There’s just a matter that we need to take care of first. You two ladies go ahead and sit down, our chef is preparing a little snack for us and then we’ll be heading downstairs,” he addresses my companions, before turning back to me. “Shall we?” he offers, gesturing towards his office.

I draw in a sharp breath, then force a small smile on my face. It doesn’t reach my eyes at all. “Sure, Mr. LeBlanc,” I tell him, trying to keep things strictly professional. He has a charming smile on his face as he holds the door open for me, but I see right through it. He wants something.

He didn’t realize I’m with two other cops already, did he? Or did I just voluntarily walk into a trap? Don’t be ridiculous, Elise, you have a mic and camera on you. People will be running at your aid before he even manages to pull a gun out. Or a pan. I’m not sure what his weapon of favor might be.

He pulls a chair out for me and I sit down, still not having figured out what he wants from me. As he sits down opposite me, he places a file in front of me, awakening a sense of déjà vu inside me. Except this time, the roles seem to be reversed. “What’s this?” I want to know.

“What I promised to deliver,” he informs me, before reaching out into a small wooden box, pulling out a cigar. I glare at him.

“Indoor smoking is prohibited in Louisiana,” I remind him, but he simply smirks at me, then lights it up anyway. He inhales.

“Arrest me then, darling,” he suggests, smoke escaping out of his mouth, before he blows the rest of it up in the air. My eye twitches. He knows very well that I’m not going to do that, because I need him to do the introductions with the gamblers down there. “I thought so,” he then remarks, pointing at the file in a demanding way.

I let out a sharp breath, opening it up to see … A contract. For renting his house. I look at him, realizing that he’s already smiling at my reaction. “What’s this?”

“I already told you, Detective. I promised we’d sign the contract today and here it is. I’m a man of my words,” he remarks, making my jaw clench. I’m not sure that I want to be signing this contract so soon. Not until I know that he’s innocent.

“Can I go through it in peace later? I want to read it thoroughly before we sign anything, so … Rain check?” I suggest. He stares at me thoughtfully for a few moments, then shrugs.

“Suit yourself. It’s not like I’m running short on money,” he remarks, then gets up from his chair, putting the cigar out and carefully laying it back inside his box. He takes it with him, of course. “Come now, I want to get something in my stomach before I rob those losers of all their money.”