Death by the River (A St. Benedict Novel Book 1)

by Alexandrea Weis

  “Wasn’t the same without you, but a lot of girls from Covington showed up.”

  The whirlwind in him expanded into a sea of black clouds. “You hook up with anyone? Go to The Abbey?”

  “Nah, man.” Mitch turned to the parking lot. “You know that place creeps me out.”

  Beau’s heart raced when a white Accord entered the lot.

  She’s here.

  “Aw, dude, you’re not still hung up on Dawn, are you?” Mitch slapped his shoulder. “I thought you two called it quits?”

  That Mitch didn’t understand the reason for his excitement didn’t bother him, but why would he assume he’d split with Dawn?

  “What makes you say that?”

  Mitch’s jaw slackened. “It’s all over school. Everyone is saying she dumped you.”

  The air left his lungs.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  Mitch held up his hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just telling you what’s out there.”

  The black clouds inside him surged into a raging storm. The interest of his fellow students made sense. It wasn’t the game they cared about—it was Dawn.

  Eager to save his rep, he scrambled across the parking lot.

  “Did your sister tell you I called?” he blurted before Dawn could get out of the car.

  She leaned back in her passenger seat, seeming more annoyed than upset to see him. “Yes, Beau, she did.”

  The sarcasm was new. Probably Leslie’s influence.

  He held out his hand to her. “Then why didn’t you call me back, baby?”

  Dawn climbed out and recoiled, avoiding his touch. “Because we’re through, baby. You can party at the river without worrying about cheating on me.” She folded her arms, smirking at him. Just like her sister. “Yeah, I know about all the other girls. How long did you think you had before it all got back to me?”

  He wanted to tear her limb from limb; the only thing holding him back was his razor-sharp discipline.

  “What are you talking about?” He kept a wary eye on the parking lot. Students gathered around, taking in their discussion. “You’re going to believe the gossip of all these jealous losers over me?”

  “They’re not losers, Beau.” Leslie butted in, coming between him and Dawn. “Losers are the ones who hurt people, who hit people, who destroy lives by … You’re a monster.”

  His fingers twitched. He needed to walk away before she shredded the tenuous grip he had on his self-control. Despite his desire to keep her as his, he could not allow her to live. Her strange power over him had to come to an end.

  “You don’t want to push me, Leslie.” Beau’s voice became cold, menacing. “You won’t like what I become.”

  Dawn pushed him away. “That’s enough! Leave Leslie out of this.”

  Beau edged closer. He couldn’t let it end like this. No one broke up with him.

  “You might want to reconsider breaking up with me. Piss me off, and I will destroy your rep. I’ll make it so no other guy will touch you.”

  Dawn didn’t flinch, didn’t raise an eyebrow at his threat. She grabbed her bag from the backseat, unflustered. Nothing like the girl he once knew.

  “Breaking up with you is the best decision I ever made. Stay away from me and my sister, or I will tell everyone what I know about you.”

  Panic shattered his confidence. What did she know? Had Taylor talked? Or Kelly? His insides heated into a congealed mess. He couldn’t afford loose ends, not when he was so close to his ultimate goal.

  He gripped her arm, hard. “What do you know?”

  Leslie came around to her sister’s side and slapped Beau hard across the face. “Let her go.”

  He didn’t register the slap. He was too eager to know what Dawn meant. “What do you know, Dawn? Tell me!”

  “Is there a problem here, Mr. Devereaux?”

  In a gray wool suit and high black heels, Ms. Greenbriar stood on the curb in front of Leslie’s car, hands on her hips.

  Beau let Dawn go and flashed the principal one of his winning smiles. “No, ma’am. Just having a friendly conversation.”

  Ms. Greenbriar tapped her shoe on the asphalt. “My office now, Mr. Devereaux.”

  Beau backed away from Dawn as a ball of anger burned in his stomach. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Leslie’s throaty laugh followed him from the parking lot. The rhythmic clip of Ms. Greenbriar’s shoes on the asphalt acted like a metronome for his fantasy about Leslie, timing every blow to her slender body as he made her pay for her sins.

  * * *

  “Good. You’re here,” Gage said as soon as Beau walked through the garage door and into the house.

  The fact that his father was home early, and waiting for him, intimidated the crap out of him. Any deviation from his tight schedule meant his father was mad—very mad.

  He held a mug of coffee in his hands, the rich aroma filled the room.

  “No need to stay after school anymore, is there?” Beau quietly set his book bag on the floor, preparing for another lecture.

  Gage sipped his coffee, eyeing the bag. “Ms. Greenbriar called me after your meeting. Luckily, you didn’t get suspended. I guess she bought your ‘it was an accident,’ bullshit. But I don’t. Your probation with the school for one month will coincide with my grounding you for the same amount of time. Since you’re no longer on the football team and have been banned from all extracurricular activities, your time belongs to me.” He paused and Beau gulped, dreading what was coming next. “You’re to go to the brewery immediately after school where you will work with me in the office.”

  His heart sank. This was worse than prison. “Every afternoon?”

  Gage ambled toward him, his somber eyes not showing an ounce of compassion. “And weekends, too. When your probation is up at school, we can discuss terms for your return to your extracurricular activities.”

  Nausea swirling in his stomach, Beau gripped the edge of the copper breakfast bar. “What about the big Halloween party next weekend? I can’t miss it. Everyone will be—”

  “No more river.” Gage’s deep voice reminded him of a foghorn at night—cold and impassive. “A girl was killed at the river Friday night. The police think there might be a man hanging out there looking for victims. I can’t have you anywhere near anything that brings even a hint of negative attention to this family. I have several business associates who would ask a lot of questions if the police showed up on my doorstep. Make them nervous, and I will make your life hell.”

  The statement generated a flurry of images about his father and underworld figures. He’d always suspected the Devereaux family business had a shady side. He wasn’t the only one in the family with secrets.

  Gage came up to him and slapped the copper bar. “I noticed the Jeep had been moved Sunday morning. Care to explain?”

  How in the hell had he known? He would have to mark where he parked the damned thing when he went out again.

  “I didn’t touch it.”

  His father hovered, exasperation written all over his face. “I’m locking up the keys to all the cars from now on. You can have your car to go to school and the brewery.”

  Beau’s beloved freedom, the only thing making his life bearable, had just been yanked out from under him. Someone shoot me!

  “Yes, sir.”

  Gage set his mug down on the bar. “Let me make this perfectly clear. I’ve remained quiet about your problem, made sure you stayed off the radar of CPS, kept you out of institutions, and got you the best shrinks to treat you under the table. But fuck up my business and I will arrange for you to be tossed into a psych facility and make sure you never get out.” He stood back and picked up his coffee. “Go to your room and stay out of my sight for a while.”

  His father’s threats proved what Beau had always suspected—he was just another holding in the long list of Devereaux business interests.

  He collected his bag and slogged to the curved staircase. Never had his father made him feel so insign
ificant.

  His humiliation rose to a crescendo as he bounded up the steps. How dare he be treated like some deranged lunatic? His father had no idea who he was.

  He stomped across the second-floor landing to his room.

  Eager for something to destroy, Beau searched the spartan décor of his room. He kicked the leg of his bed, slammed his fists into the comforter, and screamed into his pillow until hoarse. He wished he had a girl in his bed so he could pound into her.

  Andrea’s soft skin came back to him. The way it had molded around his fists when he’d beaten her sent a shiver down his arms. Beau recalled the way she looked floating down the river. He couldn’t be tied to her death. He had watched enough CSI to know how to cover his tracks.

  Despite his father’s ultimatum, he would not stay away from the river. He still had to live out his dream. After Leslie, he would have to find another place to take women, but he would keep his cell. It could become his shrine—a place where he could relive his greatest triumph.

  He rolled over on the bed, worn out from his tantrum, and slowly accepting his current situation. He would have to continue to kiss ass, behave like a model son, and agree to everyone’s terms. When he was back in the good graces of his teachers, coach, and parents, he could return to hunting for new victims. Then he could begin a glorious new life filled with pleasure, power, and pain.

  Chapter Thirty

  Beau sucked in the stale air-conditioned smell of the school hallway and slammed his locker door. He caught a few whispers of students passing by. Not as much as a few days ago, but the gossip about him, Dawn, or his probation still got to him. For the past week, he’d been a model student, abiding by every letter of his probation, and following his father’s rules at home and at the brewery.

  The confining schedule cut into his time observing Leslie. He had analyzed her every nod, smile, frown or faraway look to read her mood. He’d memorized the clothes she wore and what she ate for lunch. Beau kept close tabs on her at school—following her to her classes, staying out of sight and sitting not too far away at lunch. She ignored him, of course, but knew he was there. He could see it in her stony gaze.

  Unfortunately, his father kept him very busy after school, which brought the pursuit of his Leslie fantasy to a slow crawl. So, he turned to another outlet to relieve his tension—the internet. He spent hours searching for ways to hurt a woman. Sites on rape, torture, and how to get rid of a body became a late-night thrill.

  Mitch came up to his locker. “Any word if you are back on the team?”

  “No, not yet.” He didn’t see the ass-kissing interloper scurrying behind Mitch like he always did. “Where’s Josh? I haven’t seen him for the past week.”

  Mitch shook his head, frowning. “Don’t know what’s up with that boy. He’s missin’ practice, skippin’ classes. Been real nervous lately, too. Like he’s scared or somethin’. He says he’s got the flu, but I’m not buyin’ it.”

  He remembered the sensation of choking his ex-friend. “Must be some flu.”

  Mitch slapped his back and guided him down the hall to the school entrance. “If I were you, I wouldn’t worry about football. The team didn’t do half as well without you at quarterback last Friday night.” Mitch ambled along in his slow style as students went around them, eager to leave the school. “And it was an away game. Nobody came from the school.”

  “And the river?” Beau kept a nonchalant quality in his voice. “How was that?”

  “Nobody went to the river last weekend. After they found that dead girl there, people have been stayin’ away. Plus, the cops have been patrollin’ like crazy.”

  “I’m sure it will cool down by this weekend.” Beau scanned the hall for Leslie; he usually saw her about this time. “Won’t be a proper Halloween celebration unless we’re at the river.”

  Mitch stopped. “You’re gonna be there? I thought you were grounded?”

  He still had to convince his father to let him out of curfew for one night. But he would come up with a way to get to the party. He had to.

  “I’m working on my old man to let me go.”

  Taylor trudged down the hall, hugging her book bag and wrapped in a lumpy black sweater.

  You’re next on my list, darlin’.

  He gave her a long, cold stare, hoping to intimidate her. After her antics at the football game, he had been keeping an eye on her, too.

  Before she turned into the bathroom, she shot him the finger.

  Mitch chuckled. “What was that about?”

  “What’s it always about.” He cracked a grin, anxious to start spreading a little gossip of his own. “She’s mad I turned her down. When word got out about Dawn and me splitting up, she came sniffing around. I don’t want anything to do with that twisted bitch.”

  With a slap on Mitch’s back, Beau guided him to the entrance of the school.

  While descending the steps to the quad, Sara sped past and purposefully knocked him with her shoulder.

  Her eyes seared into his.

  Hers was the next name on his list. When he cleaned house, he would do it in a big way.

  Girls will be filling the river.

  “What’s her problem?” Mitch ogled Sara’s short leather skirt and long legs.

  “Man, didn’t you hear?” He sneered at her back, formulating his smear campaign. “She got caught with some guys in the gym, having their own little bondage party. Ropes, handcuffs, you name it. There’s pictures on Snapchat.”

  “No way!” Mitch gave Sara a second look. “I got to check that out.”

  Beau chuckled, knowing anything he told Mitch would get around the school faster than the truth. He needed to get some serious revenge on the bitch who had put him in the doghouse with Dawn.

  “Be careful with Sara. She charges. Works for one of them bondage sites.”

  Mitch covered his mouth and his eyes grew. “Are you shittin’ me? How come you know this?”

  “She told me at the river.” He headed across the grassy quad, ready to drive the stake through Sara’s dead heart. “She confided in me. She does it to help pay the bills. Her old man’s a drunk. My father is getting ready to fire him, but nobody knows yet so keep it under your belt.”

  Beau had a spring in his step as the sun hit his face. He would have her transferring to another high school by Thanksgiving.

  “Oh, boy.” Mitch directed his gaze to the parking lot. “Try and keep your tongue in your mouth this time when you see her.”

  The sun dipped behind a cloud, covering him in shadows. “What are you talking about?”

  Derek, along with Leslie and Dawn, passed right in front of him, heading to the parking lot. While they chatted, Derek held Leslie’s hand. He hated that. She belonged to him.

  Dawn leaned over and whispered in her sister’s ear, then giggled. The sound turned his stomach.

  “When was the last time you two talked?” Mitch’s deep voice intruded.

  “Last week when you were there in the lot.” He kept his eye on them as they got in their car. “The week apart did me some good. I’ve wanted to end it for a while. That girl likes to put her hooks in deep.”

  Mitch snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Then why you keep starin’ at her when you’re at school? You need to move on.”

  Mitch was right. He did need to stop following Leslie around school, especially if someone as dense as Mitch had noticed. Besides, he wouldn’t get the information on her habits and lifestyle at school. One thing he had learned from football, if a defensive line keeps blocking your every attempt to pass, then they’re reading your plays. You have to shake things up and do the unexpected.

  “I gotta go.” Beau yanked his keys from his pocket. “Got to head to the brewery. My old man will be waiting.”

  He took off across the quad at a slow jog, antsy to get in his car and follow Leslie. It was time to finish with his obsession. Once Leslie was dog food, and the others on his list joined Andrea in the river, he could move on with his
life; pursue other women and explore other interests. By then, he would have to expand his sights beyond St. Benedict.

  Good thing New Orleans is close by.

  * * *

  There was still enough sunlight branching across the sky for Beau to keep an eye on the Accord as it headed down the busier part of Main Street. He stayed back, not wanting to crowd them. Passersby on the sidewalk who recognized his car waved, and he returned the welcoming gesture. The windows down, a mellow tune coming from his speakers, he appeared the same casual Beau everyone knew.

  Their car took a right at the neon pizza sign hanging over Carl’s parking lot.

  Perfect!

  He followed their car into the lot and parked. Then he pulled out his phone, pretending to send a text as he waited for them to walk inside.

  Through the large windows facing Main Street, he watched as they took a seat at a booth—Leslie and Derek on one side, Dawn on the other.

  From his vantage point, he couldn’t see Leslie’s face but could discern a few of her hand gestures.

  She didn’t use her hands as much as Dawn, and he preferred it. It made her more sophisticated. He relaxed in his seat, his phone forgotten as the calm she gave him permeated his soul.

  It didn’t take long for his reconnaissance to frustrate him. He yearned to hear her voice, her laughter, so he would know how she sounded when happy. To remember it when he made her scream.

  Would she be high-pitched like Taylor or more muffled shrieks like Kelly? Shame he’d never gotten Andrea to scream. Might give him something to compare to Leslie when the time came.

  He clenched his steering wheel as he summoned the image of Andrea on his cot, her neck in his hands, bending, bending, and then, snap.

  It was a wonderful sound. One he would recreate again and again.

  He yearned to leave Leslie a present. Something to let her know how he felt.

  Beau spotted his book bag on the seat next to him. An idea blossomed.

  He picked up the bag and rummaged for a pen and piece of paper.