“Perhaps you should consider doing something else. Another job, or maybe even getting a hobby.”
“A hobby?” She ran her hand across her brow. “It’s been a long while since I’ve done anything for me. You’ve been my motivation for so long. I’m not sure where to begin.”
He had to know his mother had something other than him to fill her days. He wouldn’t be around much longer to encourage her to pursue her interests.
“What did you like to do in high school? What hobbies did you have? Things you liked to do? You never speak much about when you were growing up in St. Benedict.”
“Probably because growing up in St. Benedict was about the same then as it is now.” She glanced out the passenger window. “Everyone went to the river, had parties, hung out at Ed’s Diner, which is now Carl’s Pizza. Not a whole lot has changed.”
A thought popped into his head. “And the Devereaux family? Are they any different?”
She kept her face turned away, but he detected a change in her mood.
“Their influence is the same, yeah.”
Derek pushed on for answers. “What about Gage? How was he?”
Carol gave a slight shrug, not appearing too interested. “He was the quarterback of the football team, like his son, and very popular.”
Derek considered the slight tremor in her hands. “What happened between you and Gage Devereaux?”
The long, loud breath prepared him for something he might not want to hear.
“We were pretty serious, but his father never approved of me. I wasn’t the right material to be a senator’s wife, or so Edward Devereux believed. His mother, Amelia, was a snooty Uptowner from New Orleans. Her family was real blue blood, and she wanted Gage to marry into high society. They made him go away to college in Boston. He swore when he came home after his first year away, he would marry me. So, I went to LSU and waited.”
Her quivering voice tore at Derek’s heart. It was the saddest sound he’d ever heard.
She cleared her throat. “When he came back the following June, he refused to speak to me. I called, I went to his house, but I never found out why he cut me off. I fell apart and quit LSU, then got my job at the diner. It used to be his favorite coffee spot. I hoped one day he would stop by, order a coffee, and explain what happened. He never did. A year later, I met your dad.”
“But you never forgot about Gage.” Derek placed his hand over hers.
Carol raised her sad eyes to him. “Some pain haunts you. It digs in deep and awakens at those moments when you think you’re just getting over it. Gage was like that for me for the longest time. Then I had you.”
The glow of the white neon letters up ahead, spelling out Mo’s Diner, brought a smile to his face.
His second home. The diner and the people working there had been the closest thing to a family he had known. Despite his happy childhood, his envy for all those cozy homes in the neighborhoods of St. Benedict persisted. He wanted to know what a real family was like—even if it wasn’t his own.
He pulled the truck into one of the parking spots in front of the flat-roofed, one story building. Through the windows, he could easily see every customer inside. Seated at the blue booths and along the main glass-covered counter, they drank coffee, ate sandwiches, or enjoyed Mo’s famous strawberry cheesecake.
He pictured his mother and Gage Devereaux inside as happy teenagers, stealing a few kisses in a corner booth.
“Do you think he forgot about you?”
Carol wiped her finger under her eyes. “I honestly don’t know, and at this point in my life, I don’t care. The boy I loved in high school isn’t the Gage Devereaux everyone sees now. He’s different—darker, angrier, more like his father, the senator.” She positioned the rearview mirror so she could check her makeup. “When I heard he married Elizabeth, I figured he’d forgotten about me. We’ve both moved on.”
She tugged at her ponytail and ran her finger under her lower lip to wipe away a smear of lipstick. When she put the rearview mirror back in place, she smiled, the pain of the past erased.
“You want to come in and get some cheesecake before you head home?” She reached for the door handle. “You can chat with me while I work.”
He was about to skip the offer, more intrigued by the sci-fi book waiting on his Kindle when a customer caught his eye.
Despite the mild October evening, she wore a thick black sweater, and sat on a corner stool hunched over a cup of coffee on the counter. Her brunette ponytail askew, with tufts of hair poking out at odd angles, she seemed very uncomfortable.
His mother tapped his shoulder. “I want you to promise me you won’t go near the river. The cops are beefing up patrols there since they pulled over that girl.”
There was something familiar about the stranger nagging at him. “Pulled over what girl?”
Carol gathered her big black purse, the umbrella sticking out of the top. “A Covington girl got pulled over last night. Kent Davis came in for coffee and told me about her. She’d been beaten up but refused to say who did it. She wouldn’t even allow the police to take her to the hospital for an examination. All she would tell them was she had been at a party on the river.”
He turned to his mother, revisiting what he knew about the river. “Leslie had a bad experience there once with some pushy football players. She never wants to go back, and I’m not part of Beau’s crowd, so I wouldn’t be welcome.”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek before climbing out of the truck. “Glad to hear it. If you ask me, not being part of Beau Devereaux’s crowd is a good thing.” She shut her door. “Pick me up at seven and we’ll have breakfast.”
“Okay, Mom.”
Carol walked toward the double glass doors at the entrance to the diner, waving at him.
Derek waved back, uncomfortable with the idea of his mother working another twelve-hour shift. What could he do? After hearing her story about Gage Devereaux and why she’d taken the job at the diner to begin with, he understood her attachment to the place. But after all these years, it was time to let go and start a new life. He just wished he knew how to help her.
He was about to back out of his parking spot when the girl in the thick black sweater walked in front of his truck.
He sat back in his seat, flooded with astonishment. It was Taylor Haskins.
Her gray sweatpants, oversized sweater, and the flopping loose laces on her tennis shoes didn’t bother him as much as why she was at the diner alone. Mo’s wasn’t the preferred hangout. Everyone gathered at Carl’s. So why was she here?
He opened his door, grabbed his keys, and hurried from the truck.
“Taylor?”
She stopped. Her back to him, he could almost sense her cringing beneath the thick material of her sweater. She slowly turned to face him, pulling her sweater closer as if preparing her armor, and when her eyes met his, Derek became concerned.
Her stone-cold expression did not belong to the vibrant girl he remembered passing in the school halls.
“You’re Leslie Moore’s boyfriend.”
He moved closer, taking in the darkness descending over the street. “Derek Foster.”
She folded her arms and slouched her shoulders, appearing uneasy with the encounter. “Ah, yeah.” She eyed the diner. “What are you doing here?”
He glanced at the windows. “My mom works here. I drop her off when she has the night shift.”
Taylor nodded, pressing her lips together. “That’s cool.”
“Why are you here and not at the party on the river?”
Taylor paled, turning a sickly shade of gray. “I don’t like it there. Those parties are … some crazy shit happens there.”
Her words brought to mind Leslie’s warning about the river. But, unlike his girlfriend, Taylor seemed terrified of something.
“I thought going to the river was mandatory for all cheerleaders.”
“I’m not on the squad anymore.” Taylor took a step back, her fingers nervously
twirling her ponytail.
Her behavior bothered him, a lot. The girl standing before him was nothing like the cheerleader he’d seen leading pep rallies in the school quad during lunch.
“Are you okay?” He put a hand on her arm and she leaped back as if he had the plague.
“I’m sorry.” She scoured the street. “It’s getting late. I need to go home.”
“Let me drive you.” He wasn’t about to let her walk home in such a state. He motioned to the truck. “You shouldn’t be out here alone at night.”
Her gaze went from him to the blue truck next to them, then back to him.
He could see the big vein along the side of her neck pulsing. She squeezed her arms closer while an ugly line darkened her forehead. She bit her trembling lower lip.
What happened to her?
“I have to go straight home. Okay?”
He thought the request odd. Where else would he take her?
“Sure.” He went to the passenger door and opened it for her. “Get in and tell me where you live.”
She stepped toward the car like a wild animal sizing up a trap—cautious yet hungry for the bait.
Once inside, she seemed to calm. After he shut her door, Derek went around to the other side and climbed in, his mind humming.
He started the engine and waited as she secured her seatbelt. It took her shaking fingers a while to get the belt locked in place.
“1125 Huntsman Road.” She hugged the edge of her seat, closer to her passenger door. “That’s where I live.”
He nodded and put the truck in reverse. “I know where that is. Just before Devereaux Plantation in that new subdivision.”
Again, the blood drained from her cheeks. She twisted her hands together. “Yeah, my house faces their black gates. I’ve got to look at them every single day.”
“You’re not a Beau Devereaux fan, are you?”
Taylor turned to her window. “What makes you say that?”
He dug his thumb into the same tear in the steering wheel, grasping for a way to get her to open up. “I get it if you don’t like him. There’s no love lost between Beau Devereaux and me. I know everyone in this town thinks the sun shines out of his ass, but I know better. Leslie knows better, too.”
She settled back in her seat, and for the first time, relaxed her hunched shoulders. “He thinks he’s invincible.”
“Invincible?” Derek chuckled as he remembered something he’d once read. “‘The mighty have a longer way to fall than the helpless. That is why the impact of their demise resonates like a dying star throughout the heavens.’”
The smile on her lips was slight, but he figured it was a start.
“Did you just make that up?”
Derek eyed the last of the buildings as Main Street came to an end. “It’s from a book, The Dust of Giants. I forget the author.”
At the line of wide oak trees, he turned left, wondering how to keep her talking.
She leaned in a little closer to him. “What’s the book about?”
“It’s about the Titans—the giant gods who ruled before the Greek Gods of Zeus and Hera. They thought they were invincible, but eventually, their invincibility destroyed them. Believing you’re above the laws of the universe will lead to a person’s demise.”
Her disdainful snicker compounded his concern.
“It sure does apply to the whole Devereaux family.”
“Yep, sure does.” Derek kept picking at the ripped leather. “Let’s hope it’s not too long before Beau Devereaux’s invincibility eats him alive.”
Taylor turned to him, her innocent smile taking on a devilish glow. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? To have the smug son of a bitch suffer just like those he’s tortured. Makes you believe in Karma, huh?”
The chilly tone in her voice gave Derek pause. “Why do you say he’s tortured people? Do you know something, Taylor?”
“Nah.” Her evil grin widened. “I’ve just got a feeling.”
* * *
The air brisk, the stars shining bright, the pounding techno-pop in the air—it was all for him. The river was Beau’s playground and soon he would leave it behind. For his fellow team members seated on the picnic benches along the Bogue Falaya shoreline, football at St. Benedict High would be as good as it got for them. He would go on to be famous, but these guys would spend their days looking back and not ahead.
Just like my old man. Bastard. I’ll show him I got more talent than he ever did.
The twitter of girlish laughter chased away all cares about his father. Pretty young things crowded their tables in an array of styles—from short to tall, blonde to black-haired, mahogany to lily white. He could have his pick, but he ached for someone with a little more wisdom in their eyes and adventure in their heart.
Sara wasn’t among the girls at his table. She’d never showed, disappointing him. He struck up a conversation with a curvaceous sophomore with honey-colored skin and the prettiest heart-shaped, pink lips, but it wasn’t working. Her innocence, and the way she constantly batted her eyelashes sent him from the picnic tables claiming he needed to grab a beer.
He wandered the beach, checking out the girls. He ached to take another to his cell. But he wanted a challenge, someone who could satisfy his thirst for pain. He debated between a perky cheerleader who reminded him of Dawn, and a serious-looking brunette with a perfectly round ass until he spotted a new face.
Older than the others, she had mature poise, whetting his appetite. She had to be in her twenties.
What’s she doing here?
With dark hair and wide-set eyes, she came across as seductive and sensual. He especially liked the way she moved. She swayed in time with the music, rocking her hips like a wave rolling over the ocean. Fluid, smooth, and mesmerizing. The more he studied her, the more he wanted her.
He followed her around the beach until she ended up on the outer edge, away from the bonfires’ light.
“We don’t get a lot of your crowd here?”
She spun around, her full lips parted in a tempting smile. “My crowd?”
Her teasing tone aroused him. “All I ever see here is high school kids. Why are you here?”
She searched the beach around them, her eyes glistening in the light of a nearby bonfire. “I was at a campground further down the river. I heard the music and came to see what’s up. But you’re right. This isn’t my scene. Sorry to intrude.” She turned to go.
He hiked across the sand. “What’s your kind of scene?”
She halted and glanced at him over her shoulder. “Something less … noisy.”
He took another step, his heart pounding. “What’s your name?”
She faced him, looked him up and down, and then gave him a compelling smirk. “Andrea. What’s yours?”
“Beau Devereaux.”
She didn’t bat an eyelash. Either she didn’t know who he was or she didn’t care. Either way, he was intrigued. He debated how to get her to his cell. She could be just what he needed to cap off his night.
Andrea folded her arms. “What would a lady have to do to get a drink around here, Beau Devereaux?”
He closed the gap between them. “Well, that depends on the lady.”
She got a little closer. “You’re cute. How old are you?”
Tantalized by the ivory color of her skin, he drifted his gaze down her skintight jeans. “Old enough to know how to please a lady.”
Her eyebrows went up. “I doubt that.” She arched closer, her voice barely a whisper. “Men have a hard enough time figuring out what women want. What makes you think you know, little boy?”
Now he was excited. The challenge in her voice, the way she teased him roused his hunger. “I’ve got a lot more experience than most men. I have very selective tastes.”
She stood back, reappraising him.
He could sense her interest and her reservations. Tempted, she was still leery. He had to find a way to convince her to join him in the cells.
She chuckled
, captivating him. “You’re cocky, aren’t you?”
Beau got up close, invading her personal space, letting her know he wasn’t playing games.
“I’m eager and very motivated to try new things. I might surprise you.”
A flicker of curiosity rose in her features.
He had her.
She scanned the trees surrounding the beach. “Is there a place we can go to get to know each other better?”
Beau turned to the far side of the beach where a cleared path led away from the sand. “You ever seen the inside of The Abbey?”
She sank her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, jutting her breasts forward. “I’ve heard about the old abbey around here, but I’ve never seen it.”
He held out his hand; his every nerve on fire. “Let me show you.”
Beau guided her through the revelers on the swath of beach until they came to the path.
“The Abbey dates back to the 1800s. The land was given to the Jesuit priests by a local family to build their seminary.” The white spires rose in the starry sky ahead of him. “There are rumors about wild dogs seen hunting on the grounds late at night. And then there’s a lady in white myth, but no one believes it.”
She nestled closer to him, curling her hand around his arm. “Scary stuff.”
He put his arm around her. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
At the fountain, he stopped and turned to the brush-covered crack in the cell walls. “There’s some place special I’d like to show you.”
Andrea didn’t resist when they marched across the high grass toward the cells.
His fingers itched, his heart sped up, and excitement gathered in his gut. Sensing he was close to his release, to capturing the power inflicting pain gave him, made his mouth water.
She’s gonna be so sweet.
When he parted the brush covering the crack in the wall, she hesitated.
“It’s in here?”
A slight tinge of apprehension. He liked that. It meant she was sober, somewhat cautious, and would put up a fight.
“We will not be disturbed. No one comes here.”
Death by the River (A St. Benedict Novel Book 1) Page 18