Veil of Crimson

Walking On the Edge

She starts stuttering unconnectedly, shaking her head in response. Ah. I was really hoping it wouldn’t be her. I kind of feel sorry for the girl. She’s only what, twenty-one? Twenty-two? She’s dealing with things a girl her age shouldn’t be dealing with.

“No. No!” she finally finds the power in her voice, her face twisting with rage. She looks really troubled. Tears start flowing from her eyes, but she still looks more angry than anything else. “I sold the mansion to the one person, who agreed she’d let me buy it back, once I had enough money!” she hisses, making me stop and think for a moment.

I inspect her reaction closely as I think about what to say. But LeBlanc beats me to it. He laughs in response. “Honey, I hate to break it to you, but you literally had nothing, before you came to me. Do you even have a job?” he asks her.

She grits her teeth together as she looks at him with her tear-streaked face. “Yes, I do! And I’m saving every penny that I can in order to get my home back!” she hisses at him next. I watch the exchange closely, before finally mending into the conversation.

“So, you’re saying you … You and Mrs. Wesling were on good terms?” I ask, making her wipe her tears away angrily and nod in response. “When was the last time you spoke to her?” I want to know.

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, staring into the ground stubbornly. I can feel Adrian shifting beside me. “Roxy, hello? I made you a promise, but I expect you to fulfil your end of the bargain. If not, the deal is off,” he tells her in a sing-song voice.

She looks at him with hatred in her eyes, before turning towards me again. “Yesterday evening,” she lets me know. Duncan told me that the victim died somewhere around midnight. She was found by the workers who came in this morning, to start the renovation process. Guess the LaLaurie Mansion won’t shine for a while now.

“Did you go to see her personally?” I want to know and she shakes her head. Her body position is telling me she wants to be anywhere but here right now. But she’s enduring this questioning for her own sake. Whatever that means.

“No. I called her to check if the renovation process is still on for this week,” she replies, taking me by surprise. So, Roxanne knew that the mansion was up for renovation. She manages to read me now. “You seem surprised that I knew about that,” she observes.

I pull myself together quite soon. “Yes, excuse me. I didn’t realize you two were this close. She only bought your house, after all. And agreed to sell it back to you eventually,” I remark, making her nod and look away again.

“She had no one here. Her ex-husband has the kids in another state and she was … She was becoming my friend,” she breaks down, starting to sob. “N-Now that she’s gone … I’ll never get my home b-back!” she adds through the tears.

I sit there awkwardly, not knowing what to say to that. I glance at LeBlanc, who returns my gaze the moment I turn my head. I wish I could see what’s going on in that chaotic head right now. I turn back to Roxanne with a sympathetic expression covering my face.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Saint Germain. But I still have to ask you … Where were you yesterday around midnight?” I want to know. She looks at me through tears. For a moment, she looks desperate, like she has no alibi, but then, her face gets filled with relief.

“Oh, I-I … I was banging on the door of my neighbor. His music was way too loud and we shared a long argument about it. Then … I … Well, I spent the rest of the night there,” she admits, her cheeks coloring red. I clear my throat in an awkward way as soon as I hear LeBlanc starting to chuckle in response.

“Thank you, Miss Saint Germain. We’ll check your alibi with your neighbor,” I assure her. As I get up, I glance at LeBlanc again, who keeps a neutral expression on his face again.

She nods, then looks at him. “Is … Is my debt settled now?” she wants to know, real fear taking over her face again. I look at LeBlanc, but there’s nothing scary about his face. At least not something I’d be able to see.

He smiles at her in a charming way. “Of course, honey. I made you a promise. Your blood is safe,” he tells her, sending her a wink. His words leave me stunned. Her blood is safe? What the hell is that supposed to mean?!

“What about the mansion? What’s going to happen to it now that Abigail is gone?” she wants to know. It takes me a moment to realize that she’s directing that question at me. I glance at her, and I’m sure she can see how stunned I am.

I force myself to get it together. “I’m sorry, Miss Saint Germain. I don’t hold the answer to that question,” I tell her honestly, noticing the despair that takes over her face. We leave her there, completely hopeless, while I can’t help but think about my next move. Making LeBlanc tell me everything. I can’t work with someone that I can’t trust.

As we get back to my car, he doesn’t even try to get to the driver’s seat. I can tell he’s playing cautious now. He’s well aware that I’m going to question him. He’s a smart guy, no matter how stupid he pretends to be sometimes.

But I don’t give him the satisfaction of being right. At least not immediately. He clearly thinks the silence is a little odd, but he doesn’t say anything for quite a while. In fact, I could almost write this down as the day that Adrian LeBlanc held his peace for the longest.

It doesn’t last much longer, though. “Well, aren’t you going to ask away now?” he wonders literally five seconds after that thought crosses my mind. I almost sigh. Almost. I don’t look at him and I don’t say anything. I have no idea what to even ask him. “Come on, I know you want to,” he encourages me.

I glance at him shortly, before turning my gaze back to the road. “I’m not sure what to ask you in order to get the truth out of you. So, no thanks. I don’t need to hear more lies,” I inform him. He seems surprised by my words.

Great. At least once I managed to shut him up instead of the other way around. “Detective!” he protests, almost sounding offended. “I don’t lie!” he tells me, making me scoff in response. In the next moment, he does something that makes my blood run cold.

He grabs the steering wheel from me in one quick movement and I have no idea how, but he manages to move my leg and make it hit the brakes. I scream, a hundred percent sure that we’re about to die.

But the wheels squeal, the car swerves dangerously, other drivers honk at us and suddenly, we’re parked by the sidewalk. I forget to breathe. As I do, and realize that we’re both just fine, aka, the initial shock wears off, I turn towards him with a murderous expression on my face.

“ARE YOU f*****g CRAZY?! YOU COULD’VE KILLED US BOTH!” I burst out, unable to keep my myself together. I hit him in the shoulder, hard, but all that manages to do is make my wrist, and knuckles, hurt. “f**k!” I curse.

And him? Well, he’s smiling like the i***t he is. “No, I parked the car, so we can share the conversation that you’re so desperate to have. You’re welcome,” he remarks, making something click inside my head.

I turn back towards him, not saying another word, but there’s a murderous expression covering my face. I don’t even realize that my hands are reaching for his neck, until he undoes his seatbelt and hops out of the car.

I follow after him, chasing him around the car with my hands still reaching out, while screaming: “I’M GOING TO STRANGLE YOU, LEBLANC, DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

He keeps laughing as he runs around the car, running away from me. But eventually, I turn the other way and start gaining on him. That’s when he runs down the street and I follow after him, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

Then, I start to think about what I’m doing. I’m a detective, running after a police consultant, who just happens to be wearing an expensive suit again. How does this look like? I stop in my tracks, watching as he keeps running and laughing. I shake my head at myself in disappointment, then gulp my anger down.

He’s not worth it. He turns his head over his shoulder just to see me standing there in the distance. He stops in his tracks, but I don’t wait around for him. I turn around, tears starting to sting my eyes. No, no, no. El, you’re not going to cry over this jerk. That’s enough.

I draw in a sharp breath, quickening my pace, so he doesn’t catch up with me. I’m teaching him a lesson. He’s going to stay here and I don’t give a damn about how he’s getting back to the crime scene. If he can cause trouble, he can get himself out of trouble.

But before I even manage to get halfway to the car, he’s already rushing from behind. I can hear his footsteps. Before I’m able to turn around to check where he is, he’s already walking beside me. He places his hand on my shoulder, but I pull away, staring up at him furiously.

He pulls his hand back in a cautious way, the smile long gone from his face. Good. He can think about his actions at least once for change. “Detective, I’m-”

“No. No, you don’t get to say anything right now. I do. First, you lead me to the house of someone who’s supposed to be a suspect, only for me to find out that you bought that house for her, because she came asking you for a favor? Then I realize she’s terrified of you because of the way you were supposed to collect that debt, which I still have no clue about! And now you almost kill me?! What the hell is wrong with you, Adrian?!” I burst out, cutting him off.

He stays quiet for a moment, nodding. “Can we please do this in the car?” he simply says. I stare at him in disbelief. Really? I’ve literally just screamed into his face and all he has to say is, can we do this in the car?! Like hell we will!

“We’re doing this where I want to! Now talk, if you don’t want me to leave you here!” I snap at him, my patience running really thin. He sighs and motions towards the car again.

“It’s not safe out here, come on,” he says, already moving towards the vehicle. If it were physically possible, I’d now have smoke rolling out of my nostrils. And ears. He’s not going to tell me what to do. He stops beside the driver’s side, already making me lose it again. But he holds the door open and gestures inside it. “Elise, get in the car … please,” he says softly.

I have no idea why my legs move. They do it completely by their own accord, because I don’t want to do that. But I still walk towards the driver’s side and let Adrian hold the door open for me as I climb in.

I’m also completely clueless about why I don’t drive off the moment he closes the door behind me. Why am I waiting for him to get in? What the hell is this? I turn my head towards him the moment he hops in, putting his seatbelt on. I’m unable to move. “Seatbelt,” he reminds me.

I still don’t budge. He sighs, leaning over to grab the seatbelt from my left, then pulls it over my body to fasten it. His fingers brush against my stomach, making something awaken inside me. I’m not sure it’s a good thing. I don’t like where this is going. I hate this guy. He just tried to kill me. In my own car. He’s bad news.

But why do those blue eyes keep pulling me in? I shake my head to pull myself together, the only movement I manage to do after unwillingly walking to my car. You won’t let yourself get lost in that ocean, El.

I feel a strange tingling sensation in the tips of my fingers. As I look at him, I realize he’s watching me in a knowing way. I breathe in, suddenly feeling like myself once again. And the anger comes back. I glare at him and a small smile appears on his face. Like he’s … relieved?

I open my mouth, about to throw more anger at his face, but out of a strange reason, I don’t. “Talk. Talk now before I pull my gun out,” I demand, knowing that I’d never sabotage my job like that. But he doesn’t. Or maybe he does, judging by the way he just smirked.

“Okay, boss. This might sound … Deranged to you. At least judging by how rational you are, but … I give people whatever they want … in exchange for collecting their blood once they die,” he explains, making me freeze.