Veil of Crimson

Finally, a Lead

“Victim’s name is confirmed. It’s Abigail Wesling, the owner of the mansion. She’s divorced, her ex-husband lives in Utah, and she hasn’t been in touch with her children since the divorce,” Duncan reveals pretty soon.

“Well, duh, she’s obviously too well-maintained to be a full-time wife and mom,” LeBlanc remarks, making me draw in a sharp breath, before deciding to just ignore him.

“Okay, thanks. Nat, contact the victim’s ex, maybe he knows who the victim pissed off,” I give out the orders, but once again, LeBlanc just can’t keep his mouth shut.

“I can tell you that without contacting the ex, because you know, divorce? Tends to piss people off. So, there you have it, the ex-husband is looking quite suspicious,” he claims, making me turn towards him with a glare.

“LeBlanc, I told you to keep your mouth shut unless you have anything useful to say. Her ex lives in Utah, in case you overheard it. With kids in his custody I’m sure he didn’t just fly over here to kill his ex-wife, then get back to his normal life like nothing happened,” I remark.

He sighs, shrugging in frustration. “Well, it’s worth a try. Who knows what dark secrets he’s hiding? Or what broke them up in the first place?” he keeps insisting, making me furrow my eyebrows in response.

I have no idea why he’s so persistent with this ex-husband. I pull him aside, deciding to take a higher road, because telling him to shut up clearly isn’t working out. “Adrian. What aren’t you telling me?” I ask him as we’re far enough that no one else can hear us.

He smirks in response. “Ooh, so we’re finally on first-name basis, are we?” he murmurs, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way. I blink furiously, then let out a sharp sigh. “Look, darling, I’m just trying to help out in my own way. You seem to be in a tight spot here. No suspects, a ghostly murder-”

“This is not a ghostly murder!” I cut in, unable to take it anymore. He sends me a look, then shrugs.

“Well then, why don’t you ask the young miss, who’s supposed to own this house, what she thinks of it?” he wonders. My anger melts down instantly at those words.

“What are you talking about?” I want to know, making him smirk in response. Like he knows something I don’t. He keeps quiet, making me realize this is all just a game to him. “Adrian, please. You volunteered to work with the police, so work,” I warn him.

He chuckles, leaning a little closer and pointing a finger at his lips. “What do I get as a thank you?” he wonders in a suggestive tone, making my face fall. He can’t be for real right now. I narrow my eyes at him, not even flinching at his inappropriate behavior. That’s a little worrying, actually.

“Let’s see, you can pick between a split lip or broken front teeth. What works for you better?” I return the favor, hoping that it will make him uncomfortable. But no. This is LeBlanc we’re talking about.

“Ooh, so the Detective likes to play rough! I’ll keep that in mind,” he remarks, before finally spilling the beans. “To answer your question, the LaLaurie Mansion was sold because of a huge debt that was hanging over the descendants of Madame Delphine LaLaurie. The house was passed down through generations, until it fell into the possession of a young woman by the name of Roxanne Saint Germain. Her parents died in a car crash not so long ago. Her father was a big gambler, I’ve met him under Fleur de Lys quite a few times. Now, he’s left his daughter completely broke, and the Mansion was seized from her unwillingly. She’s been fighting to get it back for a while now, but with no luck. I guess she thought getting poor Mrs. Wesling here out of the way would get the house back to her,” he finally reveals.

I stare at him, unable to believe that he kept this information for like an hour or so, while he blurted out all those stupid things during that time. I let out a frustrated breath, shaking my head at him. “Next time, can you just lead with that, please?” I say, shaking my head in disbelief.

“I thought you know your history,” he remarks, making me send him a long look. “Your words, not mine!” he defends himself.

“Just come along before I change my mind,” I bark at him, then glance at Duncan. “Hey, we’ll be heading out to interview the girl, who owned this house before the victim. Call me if you get anything new!” I call out to him.

He lifts his thumb up, then turns back to the crime scene, retracing the fall of the victim. I walk outside with a sigh, and surprisingly, I’m met with the sun peeking out from behind the clouds. Finally. I’ve been so fed up with all that cloudiness lately.

As I get to my car, I notice LeBlanc heading for the driver’s side. I stop in my tracks, completely stunned by his audacity. “Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” I ask, making him smirk and grab the door handle. But it’s locked. His smirk fades a little.

“Come on, I’m trying to commemorate our first drive together as partners. Besides, aren’t you glad that I’m not driving in the backseat once for change?” he remarks. I glare at him. Yeah, like there’s any chance I’m letting him drive my car.

“Get in the passenger seat, or you’re really going in the back again. Handcuffs or no handcuffs,” I say in a warning tone. He pouts in protest, but he’s not doing anything for himself with that. “Okay, I’m going to count to three. If you’re not on the other side of the car by then, I’m going to call the Lieutenant right away, to tell him you’re making my job difficult,” I threaten him.

He watches me for a moment, before bursting into laughter. I frown. Right. I suppose I should’ve expected this wouldn’t work on him. I should’ve used better leverage, but the truth is, I don’t have any. This guy doesn’t seem to care about anything in the world. The count-to-three method was a good idea, though. It always works with my niece, at least.

“Come on, just let me drive,” he says mid-laughing. I glare at him. He better not think he can manipulate me like this. If I give in now, he’ll think that he can juggle me around instead of balls and I’ll never be able to set boundaries again. I walk over to him, knowing that he’s not going to expect what I’m about to do. “Ooh, what is this, are you going to arrest me? You know that doesn’t work on- OW! Detective!”

I yank him by his ear, knowing that I’m being ridiculous, but honestly, I don’t care anymore. I ignore his protests and lead him to the other side of the car, before unlocking it, opening the door for him and shoving him on the passenger’s seat. “Naughty kids get punished,” I remark dryly, before closing the door behind him.

As I get into the driver’s seat, he’s watching me in complete astonishment. As I put my seatbelt on, I finally glance at him, realizing that he’s looking at me in a strange way. He shakes his head in disbelief.

“What? Buckle up, so we can go,” I keep ordering him around, almost getting a little fed up with it. Can’t he just act like an adult for once? I can’t believe I’ve said that after knowing this guy for less than a week. Literally.

He smiles. “No woman was ever able to handle me before,” he lets me know, then grabs the seatbelt. “In honor of that, I’m going to put this on, even if it has no effect on me,” he then adds, making my face fall.

I roll my eyes as I turn my head back forward, starting the car. “Yeah, it isn’t supposed to have any other effect than saving your life in a car accident. But okay. Whatever sails your boat,” I remark, before driving off.

He keeps babbling the entire way, and somewhere halfway through the drive, I stop listening to him. He’s just buzzing in the background like a bee, while I’m occupying myself with thoughts of the new case. I hope this trip turns out to be useful. The ex-husband isn’t looking exactly promising for now. We’ll have to interview him to make sure, but still. I don’t think he did it. His kids still need their mother after all.

“…Detective? Detective! Detective, helloooo, are you even listening to me?” LeBlanc pulls me out of my thoughts, making me glance at him shortly. I am beyond frustrated because of the annoying needy tone that he’s just used.

“What?” I grunt, hoping that we’ll get to that house soon. He sighs like he can’t believe I’m the grumpy one. Well, that would be debatable, but I’m not interested in talking about that with LeBlanc. I think he’d paint himself as the victim before I could say ‘freeze’.

“Well, hello? We were supposed to turn right at the crossroad!” he lets me know, making me stiffen. I glance at him, shaking my head in disbelief. Ugh, I can’t believe this guy!

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I want to know, already looking for a spot to turn the car around at. I luckily pass a*****e, where I drive into the parking lot and make a turn, so I can get back to the main road.

“Well, I’ve just said it, but you were clearly somewhere else,” he protests, making me let out a long sigh. I nod.

“Yeah, alright. Just tell me where we’re going now,” I say, already driving off again. This time, I actually pay attention to what he’s saying and manage to get to the right house in a few minutes. As we park on the street, I frown in confusion.

The house isn’t worn down, like I was expecting it to be. You know, judging by what LeBlanc told me about the girl’s parents. Her father, precisely. This doesn’t look like a house that was owned by a gambler. It’s polished, clearly recently renovated and even the surroundings are looking in order.

There are flowers growing beside the path that leads to the front door. There’s a car standing on the driveway, which looks pretty new. I glance at LeBlanc in confusion. “Are you sure this is the right house?” I wonder.

He nods enthusiastically. “Of course. I bought it myself, after all,” he says causally, like he just told me it’s Monday. He climbs out of the car before I’m able to pick my jaw off the ground and ask him what the hell he’s talking about.