by Ali Vali
Chapter Four
“The rules are clear, so if this is some weird shit, I’m out of here.” Bonnie Matherne was easy to find, and even easier to entice once lured off Airline Drive right on the edge of the city limits.
The area was a string of fast-food joints, cheap hotels, and the kind of prostitutes glad to spend the night with you for a hundred bucks. Bonnie, though, had laid down the law once she entered the room that smelled of mold and age, and she didn’t appear to want to back off her demands.
“How much for the night?” the hunter asked, knowing the mask was putting Bonnie on edge, but the roll of money on the dresser was enough to keep her feet planted. Bonnie had been an obvious victim of a harsh life, but the hunter didn’t feel any sympathy or remorse for what had to happen. “The whole night and a little bondage?” The odor of the place was nauseating, but it was important to keep the outer façade in place.
“What exactly do you mean by light bondage?” Bonnie asked, swaying from foot to foot like she was restless for something that most probably wasn’t sex, and she appeared high on something that wasn’t alcohol. “And what’s with the mask?”
“I need to know you won’t touch me during our session. I don’t feel comfortable being touched in any way that I don’t initiate, but I’m willing to pay extra for your discomfort. My face isn’t what people expect, so this is better.”
Bonnie glanced at the money again, and it was easy to read what was most probably going through her drug-addled brain. That roll would keep Bonnie high for weeks, if the idiot didn’t overdose before the cash ran out and she was actually lucky enough to make it out the door. “Do we have a deal?”
“You want something more than straight sex? I’ll suck your dick, but no back-door stuff.” Bonnie came a step closer, which was a good sign. Why did stupid people never have an ounce of instinct, that little voice in the pit of your stomach that told you to run in situations like this, the hunter thought as Bonnie inched even closer.
“Trust me, nothing like that. So how much?”
“Five hundred,” Bonnie said, almost like a question, since the hunter knew she’d never made that much off a john in her pathetic life.
“Five hundred it is.” Even Bonnie, with her cheap spandex dress and bad teeth, was worth more than five hundred dollars, but bad things happened to you when you thought so little of yourself.
“What’s your name, honey?”
“Hunter.” The name seemed appropriate and would make the night easier. “Come here.” It was an order, but Bonnie’s mind was obviously on spending the cash, so she complied without another complaint.
“No kissing either,” Bonnie said, leaning away. “That’s extra, if you want to take that mask off and do it.”
“Kissing isn’t required,” Hunter said and leaned toward Bonnie. The needle caused only a moment of discomfort, but Bonnie was out a moment later, landing at an odd angle on the bed. “You’ll thank me later when I release you from this hellish existence.”
It was easy to load Bonnie into the old Ford sedan, since the last room was the only one occupied on this side of the hotel. What came next would take some time, so privacy was necessary. The city had made tremendous strides in their cleanup effort, but New Orleans East was still a flood-ravaged, mold-riddled ghost town. It was as perfect now for Hunter’s plans as it’d been months before, when Alex had picked it as the place to start his fun.
The way Bonnie’s eyes widened when she came to was almost comical, but they were one of the only parts of her body she could still move. Her screaming stopped when Hunter’s knife pressed under her right eye and a gloved finger came up to the mouth of the mask as a cue for silence. Her gaudy dress and shoes were folded and stacked next to her, making her look pale and sick on the patch of cleared floor.
“Do you feel special, Bonnie?” The furniture in the place had rotted from the flood and neglect, so Hunter crouched next to her, surprised the wood floor was still relatively flat. At least flat enough for the stage it would become.
“What the fuck is this, you sick fuck?” Bonnie screamed, pulling the ropes taut. The nails Hunter had driven held fast.
“It’s time to start my game, and you get to go first, which makes you special.” The supply bag was next to Hunter, and everything in it was arranged in the order it’d be needed. The research phase of this process had been new and completely foreign from the early exploits Hunter had accomplished. It wasn’t often Hunter was this excited to start a new game. “Do you read the papers, Bonnie?”
“No.” She sounded strained as she fought her bindings again.
“Shame.” The red candle that came from the religious store seemed garish, but this ritual required certain steps. The flame flickered very little in the stale air as the smell of sulfur from the match lingered for a few seconds. “If you’d read the papers, you’d appreciate what’s going to happen more.”
“Fuck,” Bonnie screamed again when the sharp knife that gleamed in the candlelight cut into her left wrist. “What the shit is this?”
The blood that streaked from Bonnie’s wrist didn’t seem as dark as with previous victims, but that didn’t matter. Hunter used it to draw the number three on Bonnie’s forehead and then the number two on the top of one foot and a one on the other. “All this nonsense doesn’t mean anything to me, so don’t fault me for it.” Bonnie was shaking her head, making the number three streaky, so Hunter retraced it. “It’s weird, isn’t it, what some people will do for religion’s sake? I’ve always been of the mind that you make your own path, your own luck, and most important, your own fate.”
A potato-sized rock came out next, painted half black and half red. “This goes here.” The rock rested perfectly against Bonnie’s sex, and she didn’t move when the knife pressed against her abdomen. “These gods are so particular when it comes to color and numbers, but that’s like everyone, I guess. We all have our little quirks.” The crime-scene photo and the actual scene were very alike so far, but Hunter checked once more to make sure.
“Look, do whatever you want, but leave me the fuck alone. Keep your fucking money,” Bonnie said, crying now.
“Everyone likes and dislikes things,” Hunter said, not paying attention to her plea, “so gods shouldn’t be any different. We all want what we want.” The knife went into the left side of Bonnie’s abdomen, and her scream was rather satisfying and not something that could be indulged in very often. It stopped when Hunter sliced to the right, effectively gutting Bonnie like a deer that had to be field dressed. Her guts spilled, but not as much as Hunter would’ve thought.
Bonnie’s heart was still warm when Hunter reached in and ripped it out, a feat not as easy as it had sounded when it’d been mentioned in the police report. Hunter held it close to the light of the candle and squeezed, surprised at how much blood squished out. “This is for Elegua, the god of beginnings and roads. Open the path for me along with Eshu Afrá, your companion, who gathers the bodies of the dead. This road will be long and unending between us.”
Hunter held the heart up as the prayer was offered to the god being called, almost sad the ceremony was almost over. “Thanks for the great night, Bonnie,” Hunter said and chuckled. The heart went next to the candle in the circle of salt the ceremony called for, followed by the bath of water and rum.
“Mr. Perlis, you’re a truly sick fuck, as Bonnie so eloquently said, but I have to admit this was rather fun.” Everything so far was textbook from the case, so it was time to either stick with the plan or improvise. “A number seven on each breast seems so amateurish.” The bag held one more thing, and it seemed a better fit.
“Let the games begin.”
* * *
“Just remember one thing, Sept,” Della Blanchard said as the waiters at Blanchard’s served drinks. “You hurt my beloved granddaughter, and I know people.”
“I know you do, and I live in fear of you, so don’t worry. I’ll cherish Keegan forever because I love her, not because you threaten
me,” she said, causing Keegan to squeeze her thigh. “And if you don’t behave, we’re not naming any of our kids after you.”
“I want plenty of great-grandchildren, so don’t skimp on the number,” Della teased back, and the rest of the family laughed. “You’ve certainly brought excitement into our lives, Sept, and I feel blessed you’re now part of our family.”
“Hopefully our excitement days will stay at a minimum, Gran,” Keegan said, waving off the menus. “Tell the kitchen to feed us,” she said to the waiter. “It’s good to be surprised every so often.”
“Your vacation certainly sounded like a surprise,” Melinda, Keegan’s mother said, and Jacqueline groaned.
“Please, Mom, don’t ruin my appetite,” Jacqueline said. “There’s plenty of time for Sept to fill us in, just not right before dinner.”
“It was a surprise, ma’am, but good people are working the case, so I’m hoping whoever did this will be in custody soon,” Sept said, realizing it would take time for the Blanchards to get used to the ugly side of life they were seldom exposed to. “Starting tomorrow I’ll be back on active duty, so I’ll keep you all updated.”
“Tomorrow?” Della asked. “Are you sure you’re fully recovered? I don’t need to make any calls downtown, do I?”
“You don’t need to call anyone, but I appreciate it. I’m back in top form, ma’am. If not, Keegan would have locked me in the house.”
Della nodded and smiled at Keegan. “Don’t let anything happen to you if you’re going back out on the streets, Sept. Think of how long it’ll take you to get back in my good graces if you defy that order.”
“You all keep this up, and I’ll need to hog-tie her to get her to an altar,” Keegan said, pointing at each person in her family. “And the vacation included more than our gruesome delivery, Mom.” Keegan held up her hand. “She asked and I said yes. Thanks for this, Gran.”
“Accepting the gift of my ring proved to me that you’re the right person for Keegan,” Della said to Sept. “My grandmother wore it, and like her grandmother did for her, she left it to me before she passed. That ring represents so much more than a family heirloom. It holds within that stone a lot of happy memories and happy years to the women who’ve worn it.” Della took her hand and smiled at her. “That you understood what this ring means to our family history makes me think you’ll put Keegan’s happiness first throughout your lives together. Anyone else’s ego might’ve gotten in the way.”
“I have ego for a lot of things, but when it comes to the things that are important to Keegan, that won’t ever be the case,” she said as the appetizers came out.
“So when are we having a ceremony?” Melinda asked.
“I’ll leave that up to Keegan and you. You tell me when and where, and I’ll be there in a nice suit.” Keegan pinched the top of her hand hard, and Jacqueline repeated the move on the other hand, meaning her answer had been dead wrong. “Or you let me know when you want me to start making plans, and I’ll be there to help out.”
Jacqueline kissed her on the cheek. “Why the hell can’t I find one this trainable?”
“Don’t say stuff like that out loud, Jacqueline,” Keegan said, and Della winked at her. “There’s no need reminding her she’s still in the learning phase.”
The waiters surrounded the table and placed all the appetizers at once with their usual flair, making all the Blanchards quieten as they tried the first course. They all appeared to be judging a cooking competition, but Sept had long since gotten used to the food peculiarities of this family. The Blanchards really were restaurant royalty and took every aspect of their business very seriously.
“Thank you, and let Louis know this is delicious,” Keegan told the head waiter.
“It is good, but I’m not forgetting that you think me and Mike are in the same boat,” Sept said about their dog. Mike had actually been a guide dog to Perlis’s second victim and had been adopted by her and Keegan when he’d had to be retired. “But on a different topic, my mother invited everyone over for Sunday lunch, so would y’all mind missing our usual brunch date for once?”
“Camille’s already called us, and I talked her into coming to the house,” Jacqueline said. “It’s been too long since our kitchen’s been used the way Great-granddad intended. She and your sisters-in-law will be there early to help with the cooking.”
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to worry about my job from now on.” She was joking but was happy their two families were getting along so well.
“True, and I’ll be taking plenty of notes from Camille on how to make you behave, so consider yourself warned,” Keegan said, and Sept couldn’t help but kiss her. “And I’ll let you off the hook for our first couple of meetings for our ceremony, if you’ll tell me what you want.”
“I want you standing next to me saying I do,” she said, and Jacqueline gagged, along with Della.
“You two are sickening,” Jacqueline said, “but put me down for the planning parts of the happy occasion. And I didn’t mention this before, but some woman called and wanted to talk to me about some book she’s writing.”
“Did she say why?” Sept asked, thanking the waiter for bringing her another plate of the garlic toast the restaurant made.
“Somehow she knew you live with me and Keegan, and she said she wanted a full picture of what it was like when you were trying to solve this case. I’m not sure what I can add aside from you’re quiet except when—” Jacqueline stopped but laughed when Keegan kicked her under the table. “You’re watching football on television,” she said, sticking her tongue out at Keegan. “You’re dedicated to your job but don’t talk about ongoing investigations no matter how much we beg you to.”
“That’s not remotely true. I give you plenty of inside scoop, but I appreciate you not passing that along to someone I’ve never met.”
“Who is this person?” Della asked.
“Crime writer Nicole Voles. She’s after the story of Alex Perlis and the detective that caught him,” Keegan said as one of the hosts came up and whispered in her ear. “Excuse me for a second. I’ll be right back.”
“Problem?” Della asked.
“A little snafu in the kitchen,” Keegan said, waving her hand toward the host. “It shouldn’t take long.”
“I’ve heard of this woman,” Della said. “But why would she want to talk to any of us at all when you should be the center of this story?”
“Probably because I’m not interested in being the center of her book. I’m sure Perlis’s crimes fascinate some people, but I had to live the situation, and I’m not too hyped to go back there. I don’t believe that sick bastard’s atrocities should be celebrated or sensationalized.”
“You won’t have any problems from us, babe,” Jacqueline said. “I love you for you, and for what you do.”
“It’s not that I’m shy,” Sept said, and Melinda laughed.
“That’s true. You’ve given Mama an earful since you met her,” Melinda said and glanced at Della. “And I happen to think she secretly loves it.”
“I know she does, but being the center of attention also makes Keegan and you all the center of attention too, from people I don’t want anywhere near you.”
Della put her hand up as if to ask for Sept’s attention. “What does that mean?”
“It means the world is full of crazy, evil people. My world is more than my job, so I don’t want those kinds of idiots reading about what’s most important in my life. If all I do is my job and move on from case to case, then I’ll be satisfied.” She placed her hand over Della’s and kissed her cheek. “I’m not ashamed of my love for you and your family, but I don’t want to advertise it to anyone who might want to get back at me simply because they don’t like what I do.”
“You’re going to make it impossible not to mention you in my will,” Della said and laughed.
She smiled and stood when she saw Keegan coming back with Melinda’s new girlfriend, Dr. Carla St. John. “I’m so sorry I’m
late, but I got stuck in surgery,” Carla said as she shook Sept’s hand. “Congratulations on the engagement. We’re lucky to have found such beautiful women, huh?”
Keegan rolled her eyes where only she and Jacqueline could see her, and Sept felt for them both, since they were still in the process of accepting Carla into Melinda’s life. Melinda’s longtime partner, who’d raised the girls with Melinda, had died a few years prior, and their mother had only recently started dating.
“Thanks, but they’re much more than that, so we are lucky,” she said, and Keegan kissed her for that remark as well. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“Mrs. Blanchard, how are you?” Carla asked. She hadn’t made a very good impression on Della, and the ice wasn’t melting on that relationship any time soon.
“I’m well, thank you. Shall we begin?” Della said, cutting off any other small talk.
The meal was delicious as they worked through a few small plates so the kitchen could bring out a variety, and they ended up with a mini wedding-style cake as a surprise. Sept put her arm around Keegan when the waiter placed it in front of them and suddenly couldn’t wait to start planning a day where she could tell the world how she felt about this woman.
She raised her glass, and the others followed suit. “To Chef Donovan,” she said, remembering the pastry chef who’d been killed right outside the back door of the restaurant, bringing her into Keegan’s life. Donovan had been one of Keegan’s good friends, and Sept knew how much she missed him. “He died too young, for no good reason, but his parting gift was special. I wish I’d met him, but I’ll be forever grateful for his sacrifice.”
“Well said, sweetheart,” Della said. “And to Keegan and Sept, may your days be filled with happiness, love, and good fortune. And, most important, children for me to spoil.”
They finished dinner, and Sept walked Della down the stairs, enjoying her quick wit. “Thanks for everything and for agreeing to change your Sunday routine.”