The Forbidden

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The Forbidden Page 27

by Heather Graham


  “That’s probably true,” Fin said.

  “Was it any help?” Ryder asked Fin. “Finding the cabin—was it any help for the Christy Island case?”

  “In a way.”

  “How’s that?” Avalon said.

  “Well, I found the shack through one of the pictures you found in Nolan Christy’s trunk...or, rather, the police in Terrebonne Parish found it.”

  “My great-grandfather is dead,” Cara said. “He couldn’t have—”

  “No, but we could be wrong. He might have killed others when he was alive, and someone who knew about it could be killing now. Or Nolan Christy might have just liked really sick stuff.”

  “There was a reason our parents hated him,” Cara said.

  “We know that the cabin was once the scene of a horrible crime. A forensic crew is going to be tearing it apart. And you know what? Sometimes, even with a site as degraded as that shack is going to be, something can be found. Like a fingerprint—time does a number, yes, but...there was a lot of blood in there, and someone had used it to paint on the wall.”

  “Oh, my God!” Samara Stella rose and walked away.

  Ryder looked at Fin. “I think it’s you. No offense, buddy, but you smell to high hell.”

  “Oh, my apologies,” Fin said. “I’ll shower now.” He stood, glancing at Avalon. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew that he had sat down on purpose first—she knew, too, that he didn’t want her following him.

  He had to be alone to steam and scrub away all that he had encountered that day.

  “We’ll grab some food when you’re down,” Ryder said.

  “That’s a plan,” Fin agreed.

  “Hey, this is like an investigation. We’ll put the bill on your tab.”

  “We’ll give it to Adam Harrison,” Fin agreed, hurrying toward the house, then pausing.

  “That door is open,” Boris called to him.

  Fin headed in.

  “Damn,” Lauren said, coming back to the table. “How in hell could such a good-looking man smell so...”

  “Disgusting,” Cara said. “Blood, I guess.”

  “Old blood,” her husband said.

  “Are we ordering food, or heading out?” Samara asked. “I mean, I guess we should keep it down, if we’re really not paying the tab.”

  Leo laughed. “Wait—when someone else is paying the tab, you don’t worry as much about it.”

  They talked casually, and as they did, Avalon kept smiling, and yet something had disturbed her.

  She wasn’t sure what.

  “Hey, aren’t you supposed to do your shows at night?” Brad asked Samara.

  “I’ve taken a few days off—I’ll get back to it next week,” Samara said. She glanced over at Avalon, and Avalon wondered if she wasn’t very afraid that the killer was after her.

  Fin returned, his usually bronze flesh reddened, as if he had taken a scouring pad to himself.

  Maybe he had; his hair was wet, a dark honey color against his head.

  He smelled good.

  They opted to call out for food, and have it delivered. Italian seemed to fit the bill again; a large lasagna, baked ziti and several other shareable dishes arrived.

  Avalon watched Fin as he talked to others, and she realized that he did a lot more listening than he did speaking.

  She watched as he excused himself, digging into a pocket for his phone.

  He looked at it; he’d received a text message.

  Fin looked up. “Ryder, we’re in New Orleans. This should be yours. Will you please arrest Mr. Kenneth Richard?”

  “What?” Kenneth demanded. “On what charge? What the hell—”

  “Murder, Mr. Richard. You’re going to be arrested for the murder of Jane Doe, and while you’re being held, they’ll be gathering evidence to charge you with the murders of Ellen Frampton and Cindy West.”

  “What?”

  “Fingerprints, Mr. Richard. You really should never finger-paint in blood!”

  Sixteen

  “No!” Cara screamed. “No, that’s impossible! Yes, our great-grandfather was a monster, but...no, no, no! Kenneth is not a monster.”

  She was on her feet, screaming at Fin. “You’re a liar. You’re a horrible, lousy liar! You said that the house was degraded, that...you can’t get anything back that fast. I know—I watch TV. You’re full of it—you bastard, you can’t solve a crime, so you’re going to throw it at anyone!”

  Ryder was already standing, asking Kenneth to do the same. He read the man his rights. Kenneth was dead silent. Then he said, “But...I didn’t.”

  “Kenneth, shut up, not a word!” Cara snapped.

  “This has to be wrong,” Julian said, trying to reassure Kenneth.

  “We’ll have our lawyers out as soon as possible. Just keep your mouth shut, Kenneth, don’t say anything at all to these bastards,” Gary warned.

  “Kenneth, you will have to come with me,” Ryder said quietly.

  Cara kept protesting, torn between tears of disbelief and ranting fury.

  Gary kept telling Kenneth not to say a word—that they’d twist and use anything against him.

  Julian repeated that they’d get an attorney, and that Kenneth shouldn’t worry. His family knew that he wasn’t a monster.

  Fin took the brunt of Cara’s rants, but he didn’t say a word. Cara, Gary and Julian followed Ryder and Kenneth as they left the courtyard.

  Then they were gone and there was dead silence, the others in the courtyard staring at Fin.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “That wasn’t...a great way to end the day.”

  “Is it—is it real?” Lauren whispered. “I mean...is that it? They really found something? Kenneth murdered Cindy?”

  “Oh!” Samara had been standing; she sank into a chair.

  “Can it really be over?” Boris asked.

  “I’ll talk to him in the morning,” Fin said. “We won’t interrogate him until then. Ryder will keep him in a cell overnight without saying anything more.”

  “Julian was insisting on their attorney—they aren’t going to let him talk,” Kevin warned.

  “We’ll see,” Fin said. He knew that Avalon was looking at him, and she seemed doubtful of everything that had just occurred.

  “Okay...” Avalon said. “Cleanup time, let’s get this into recycling and trash bins and... I’m going to bed. Wait, Samara, we’ll give you a ride—”

  “I’ll get her home,” Brad offered.

  Samara had evidently decided that she liked Brad. She said, “That would be great. And then I’m okay, really.” She looked at Avalon. “It’s great, living in a house with a cop. I mean, staying at the house—he’s married. I’m in the guest room. Honestly, I’m a performer, not a home-wrecker.”

  Soft laughter arose from many in the group, and it was good to break the tension—they were all still reeling from the sudden end to the night.

  “Not to worry,” Brad assured her.

  “Thank you—all of you,” Samara said. She headed for the gate, followed by Brad.

  “A budding romance,” Lauren said. “A man arrested, a murderer...taken. All right, I’ll help clean up and then I’m going to bed. I love you guys. But I need to be alone. I need to process this... I...wow. Kenneth. He watched us day in and day out. I used to talk to him all the time when you were setting up shots. Oh, God. Wow.”

  She picked up the dishes to clear. Avalon joined her, as did Terry, Boris and Leo. Fin pitched in, too. Lauren left the kitchen for her room.

  Avalon finished washing the last one of the serving spoons they had used, put it away, glanced at Fin, still wide-eyed and silent, and then headed up the stairs.

  He followed her into her room, closing the door behind him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her.

  “I’m in
shock. I mean, I want to believe that it’s true, and so it’s over, but can it really be Kenneth? Was it him? Is it over? You think he did it all with help.”

  “Hopefully, he’ll tell us who.”

  “But can it be? Did they really get a print? And if they did, could they have identified it so quickly?”

  “We have prints from the heirs and from all of you—for comparison,” he told her. “When you have nothing to compare a print with, it’s not very helpful. But...”

  “But what?”

  “It was a partial print. That’s not a solid case. Not yet. It may prove to be. The shack was really degraded badly.”

  “I know. I smelled you.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, well...”

  “You did that on purpose, too.”

  “I did.”

  “And you think that Nolan Christy murdered the girls before Cindy?”

  “I’m not sure. But we’re on the right track. And sometimes, you need to push a few buttons to get to the truth. We’ll learn more tomorrow.”

  “Not if Cara Holstein has her way.”

  “We’ll see.”

  She nodded.

  Fin was exhausted. It wasn’t even late, but he’d barely slept the night before.

  He laid his gun and holster on the bedside table, then removed his shirt. Avalon was still just standing in the center of the room. He paused, turning back to her. “Are you all right with me here tonight? I swear, I practically scrubbed skin off, but—”

  “No, no, you’re fine.”

  He stripped down to his briefs and crawled into the bed. She gave herself a little shake, then sat down on the edge of the mattress.

  “I’m sorry. I’m thrown,” she said. “You were so matter-of-fact, and it feels like... I didn’t really suspect Kenneth. Julian is the one who seemed connected to everything.”

  “We believe that Kenneth is involved,” Fin said. “Again, they have a partial print. It won’t stand up in court.”

  “Then why arrest him now?”

  “We’re watching the reaction,” he said.

  “Is that...legal?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded. Slowly, she took off her shoes, and then stripped out of her jeans and shirt. She lay stiffly next to him on the bed.

  “I’m just rattled,” she said.

  “That’s okay, I understand,” he said softly.

  She was silent. He didn’t want to push her in any way; he wanted her to have her space. And to stay away from him, if she chose.

  “Avalon, we will discover the truth,” he said softly.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  Time passed. He closed his eyes. He was tired. He was glad that she was near.

  “There’s just something,” she said quietly.

  He forced himself a bit more awake. “What’s that?”

  “I keep feeling that there’s something I should have caught today when we were talking...something was right there, and I missed it.”

  “Let it go,” he said softly, “and it may just come back.”

  After a while, Fin thought that Avalon had fallen asleep.

  Then she curled against him, her whisper touching his ear with soft breath and warm heat. “I’m not that rattled.” He felt her lips move to his throat, her body ease against his with an evocative rub of flesh. She brushed over his chest as she moved against him, kisses searing his skin.

  He eased his arms around her, drew her to him and found her mouth, kissing her long and deep on her lips, and then her throat and breasts and beyond, feeling the caress of her fingers against him, the hot, wet movement of her lips against him. Touching, writhing, arching, moving against each other... It was unique, it was necessary, it was beautiful.

  He wasn’t as tired as he had thought.

  But in time, he slept.

  Sunday

  Men watched women.

  Women watched men.

  He watched her.

  It had been so thrilling to be near her, to breathe her in. So exceptionally thrilling to just be near, breathing her in, watching the fluidity of her movements, see her smile, hear the crystal melody of her voice.

  He couldn’t see her, not at that second.

  But that didn’t matter. Because he would see her soon, and the wonder of it was sweet. Because they were all so blind, they didn’t understand. It would be today...

  He didn’t need to follow her, stalk her, watch her as he had, because now, her scent lingered in his memory, he could close his eyes and see her...

  And imagine. Because it was now or never, because the idiots couldn’t see or touch the truth, but they were stumbling close.

  And it had to be today. He didn’t say so, he didn’t dare...

  But if he just held her, watched the sky-blue of her eyes as the light within them changed and died, if he just held her and touched her and loved her...

  He would die with her. Because life, and death, would then be complete. Life and death, the fantasy, the reality.

  Close, so close...yes, he could still breathe in her scent in his memory...

  And know that fantasy would be reality.

  * * *

  Avalon opened her eyes. Fin was awake, showered and just sliding his jacket on over a tailored cotton shirt; he was all business this morning.

  She smiled at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I’m waiting for the day that I wake up, and you’re still in bed!”

  He smiled, paused by the bed and leaned down to kiss her.

  “I’m going in to talk to Kenneth Richard,” he said.

  “Of course. Fin, do you think this will be the end?”

  “I think we’ve stirred the pot. And that could trip someone up. Anyway, we do know that there is more than one person involved in all this, and if Kenneth is one of them, I’m hoping he’ll give up the other before...”

  “Before anyone else dies. But, Fin, these killers...they went months and months between victims. If you can’t find evidence against Kenneth, he—or whoever is doing this—could go underground for ages again, and then strike.”

  “We know of three victims,” he said quietly. “There could have been more. And if life is going to go on for any of the innocent here, it all must be stopped now. I’m going to talk to Kevin and Boris—make sure that this group stays here until I get back.”

  “You trust Boris now?”

  “As much as I trust anyone. With Kevin, Boris, Leo, Terry, Brad and Lauren all here, you’re a group—and there’s safety in numbers.”

  She nodded, leaping up. “I’ll shower later—wait for me!”

  She grabbed jeans and a shirt from a drawer and plunged quickly into the bathroom, almost tripping in her urgency.

  He was waiting at her door when she came out, and they went downstairs together.

  Kevin was in the kitchen at the coffeepot when they came down, smelling the coffee and smiling as he greeted them. “I can see you’re off somewhere,” he told Fin. “What are you up to today, Avalon?”

  “Kevin, will you all stay here, together, please, until I get back?”

  “Happy to. Except that Terry and Brad already went out—one of them is on a beignet kick. But just beignets—we have good coffee here. He’s getting bags of the things. I don’t think he was walking down to Decatur and Café du Monde—there’s a place about a block or so from here. He’ll be back shortly. Boris and Brad are up, but they’re in Boris’s room working on dailies. Lauren isn’t up...and I’m here.” He gave Fin a thumbs-up.

  “Kevin, you’re great. Thanks,” Fin said. “Lock me out!” he told Avalon.

  “No—you’re great. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around this. It was Kenneth. Wow.” Kevin shook his head. Avalon walked with Fin to the front door and when he had exited, she keyed i
n the alarm and locked it. Heading back to the kitchen, she found that Lauren had come down for coffee. “Why am I so tired?” she asked. “I haven’t even been working!”

  “I’m sleepy, too,” Avalon said.

  Kevin nudged Lauren. “But she’s busy nights,” he said, teasing.

  Avalon groaned. “You guys—we’re not in high school anymore!”

  “We still thrive on ribbing one another. Seriously, I’m happy for you. Someone both decent and cool in your life.”

  “Thanks. I guess I may go back to sleep,” Avalon said. On her way out of the kitchen, she turned back to look at the two of them, grinning. “I need to keep my energy up.”

  She heard them laughing as she headed back up the stairs. She smiled. Good friends weren’t always easy to come by, she knew. She was lucky.

  But under her happiness, she still had a ridiculous sense of having missed something. Maybe it was Fin’s fault—he’d talked about patterns of speech. Something someone had said the night before had bothered her.

  She shook her head and closed the door to her room, then pulled out her phone. She now had a copy of the chilling blog post she’d discovered when first looking up info on Samara Stella.

  She started reading, chewing her lip in thought. But before she could get very far, there was a pounding at her door.

  “Avalon!”

  It was Kevin. She hurried to the door and opened it. “I’m getting both you and Lauren to the police station...now. This is getting worse and worse. Kenneth didn’t do it. I want you two back where there are a ton of cops. And guns! Come on, please, let’s—”

  “Kevin, what happened?”

  “Samara Stella. They found her—it’s on the news. They found her in her theater. Not a doll this time—they found Samara! She was on her Anne Boleyn daybed for real, with a knife through her chest.”

  “No,” Avalon whispered. Her legs felt weak.

  Then she frowned. Kevin had been looking at her, anxious, but determined.

  Suddenly, something about him changed. His eyes widened and looked glassy.

 

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