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

by Alexandrea Weis

  “I thought she was you. Her hair was short like yours.” He sat back and touched the ends of a curled lock. “I saw it.”

  “She cut it.” Leslie’s brittle voice sounded so frail. “I found her hair in the sink in our bathroom. Why did she do that?” She collapsed into his arms. “It was supposed to be me. I should be in there, not her. We’re supposed to go together. Not like this. How am I going to live without her?”

  Her sobs destroyed him, but a selfish piece of him rejoiced. He hated himself for feeling that way, but his guilt could wait. Leslie needed him.

  Dr. Jeffers came into the hall. Cries rose around him as Shelley and John learned of their daughter’s passing.

  Derek never let go of Leslie. He whispered how much he loved her.

  “Why did this happen?” she kept asking, but he didn’t tell her.

  His Leslie would find out the horrible truth soon enough.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Sobs, sniffling, and reverent whispers permeated the gym at St. Benedict High. Beau sat surrounded by teary students and faculty gathered around the basketball court. Some carried white roses in memory of Dawn Moore. The podium in the center of the court had a black sash across it. The rain tapping on the tin roof seemed an appropriate accompaniment for such a solemn occasion.

  He, like the others there, was devastated. Dawn? It had been Dawn squirming and screaming beneath him. But she had short hair and the bottle of champagne. The high of his kill deflated the moment he learned Dawn had died.

  If he was going to pursue this, he had to smarten up. And what if he had discovered her? Beau would have killed her anyway. She had been a means to get closer to Leslie, nothing more. He would have considered her practice.

  Leslie wasn’t at school, which really ticked him off. But with his anger came a speck of optimism. He could still take her. No one knew it was him, so he had another chance. He would also eliminate the Moore twins from his life for good. There was a silver lining to his disappointment after all.

  “The river is off limits from now on,” Sheriff Davis announced from the behind the podium. “The beach is closed, and the ruins of The Abbey are going to be patrolled day and night until Dawn Moore’s killer is caught. Two women have died at the river. We fear a killer is on the loose.”

  “Is this a serial killer, Sheriff?” one of the female faculty members asked.

  Sheriff Davis slapped his Stetson against his thigh, looking uncertain. “I don’t know, but the federal authorities are coming in to help with the investigation. That’s all I can say.”

  The rumbling of student conversations echoed throughout the large gym.

  “This is bullshit,” Beau muttered to Mitch. “Guys can still party on the river.”

  “Yeah,” Mitch agreed. “But we’ll have to find a way to get around the cops.”

  Beau’s gut tingled at the challenge. It might make parties at the river even more thrilling. Then there was the matter of The Abbey. He longed to visit the scene of his crimes. Find out if he could still use the abandoned location to serve his needs.

  “We can make it work.”

  The idea of returning to the river, and planning for a night with Leslie brought him back to life.

  I can be king again.

  The clatter of students climbing down from the bleachers awakened him from his daydreams. He followed the crowd to the gym doors after the impromptu meeting came to an end.

  “Big game against Jesuit High coming up.” Mitch butted his shoulder. “You think Coach might let you play?”

  “Seriously doubt he’ll let me finish the season.”

  “Go talk to him today during practice. He might feel sorry for you after …”

  But Beau didn’t hear the rest. Someone from the throng around them grazed by him and whispered, “I know,” in his ear.

  He stopped. A few students behind him gave him dirty looks when they almost ran into him. He spun around, searching for the culprit, his breath trapped in his chest.

  “Dude, you okay?” Mitch slapped his back.

  Students clogged the doorway. He nervously examined their faces, sweat beading his upper lip.

  Something ahead caught his eye. The swing of a brunette ponytail secured with a red ribbon.

  Beau stood on his toes to get a better look, rising above the students around him.

  The girl wearing the red ribbon stopped, turned, and her blue eyes met his.

  Taylor Haskins grinned at Beau and then ducked out the gym doors.

  He elbowed students out of the way, anxious to catch up with her.

  “Hey, watch it, Beau,” a girl snapped at him.

  He reached the doors, but there was no sign of Taylor.

  Sweat dripped down his back and an unsettling prickling danced across his skin. Had she been the one watching him at The Abbey?

  He had to find out what she knew and shut her down before she talked to anyone else.

  * * *

  Overcast skies dulled the skylights in the school library. The lack of light made it difficult for Beau to see his computer screen. He’d tried to change stations, but the bitchy librarian had turned him down.

  Fed up, he was about to skip his computer class lesson and look up news articles about Dawn’s death when he received an unexpected message on the school’s in-house email system.

  I know.

  That was it. No name, no sender name, nothing.

  The kick in his gut knocked him back in his chair. He sat up, avidly browsing the other computer stations around him.

  Everyone had their heads down. He even checked for Taylor’s red ribbon.

  He sat again, rubbing his hand over his face.

  “Okay, let’s play.”

  Beau opened the messenger system and typed his password. When a blank screen came up, where his notifications should have been, his stomach clenched. An entire semester of class information had been wiped clean.

  “What the hell?”

  He retyped his login information twice, thinking there must be a mistake. But the same empty screen came back on. Even the newest message didn’t show on his board.

  Beau slammed his fists on his keyboard, cursing under his breath.

  “Is there a problem?”

  Any second, he expected to see Mrs. Peters arching over him. The old hag loved to patrol the computers for students searching for porn.

  “I have an issue with—”

  Sara Bissel leaned over his chair, smiling sweetly, a red ribbon holding up her ponytail.

  He tried to speak but lost his voice. His eyes remained fixed on the red ribbon.

  “What’s wrong, Beau? Cat got your tongue?”

  He wanted to smack her across the face, but instead he stood and grabbed his books. “You think you’re smart? Just you wait.”

  He hurried from the library, unhinged by the encounter.

  * * *

  The last bell of the school day echoed through the hall. Lockers banged closed while students around Beau still buzzed about the tragedy at the river. The constant mention of Dawn’s name and his unending performance as the grieving ex ate away at him.

  Outside, he stormed across the wet grass on the quad, the cool November air teasing his face. Eager to give Coach Brewer another try, he headed to the gym doors. He missed the game, the glory of being the quarterback, and the physical outlet. There was no better place to let go than on a football field.

  He was about to head inside when he was distracted by a few cheerleaders on the practice field. He couldn’t make out their faces, but it wasn’t the entire squad of eight girls, only four. Why were they on the field and not in front of the stands where they normally practiced?

  And why were they out there so soon after Dawn’s death? Weren’t they upset like everyone else?

  Intrigued, he took a step closer to the field.

  The wind picked up as he neared the stands. The breeze seemed to circle him, and the hair stood up on the back of his neck. An odd tickle ran acr
oss his palms.

  Wanting to get a good look, he moved out from the shade of the stands.

  The girls stopped in the middle of their cheer when they spotted Beau.

  The red ribbons securing each girl’s ponytail caught in a passing wind and twirled toward the sky.

  He wasn’t sure if he should waste time confronting them or go on to his meeting with his coach. Perhaps the ribbons were their silly way to commemorate Dawn.

  When the wind died, the girls lined up, hands on their hips, and they chanted in unison.

  “Hey hey, ho ho, we know what you did. We know. Can’t hide the truth from our prying eyes. Vengeance will be ours tonight.”

  Stunned, he dropped his book bag.

  What did that mean?

  Someone stepped out from behind the line of girls. It was Leslie wearing Dawn’s old uniform, glaring at him.

  He stumbled backward. It could have been Dawn coming back from the dead. But why would she be wearing—

  Taylor joined Leslie. In her cheerleading uniform, with red ribbons in her hair, she marched toward him looking like the confident girl he’d known before their encounter.

  His mouth dry, his stomach turning, he picked up his bag, ready to forget about his meeting with Coach Brewer.

  A third girl appeared. Sara—also dressed as a St. Benedict cheerleader—stepped out from the front of the stands.

  Shoulder to shoulder they progressed, their faces like stone statues.

  Before they reached him, another girl linked arms with Sara.

  Kelly Norton, a St. Benedict’s red cougar on her chest, pointed a pompom at him. Her venomous little eyes reminded him of a cobra’s right before the strike.

  “I know,” she called to him.

  This was too much.

  Before he could turn and run, a hand came down on his shoulder, paralyzing him with fear.

  He expected Sheriff Davis to be there, ready to arrest him, but it was Mitch, dressed for practice.

  “What’s up with that whacked out cheer?” Mitch pointed his helmet at the field. “And I thought they weren’t practicing today because of Dawn.”

  His skin was on fire, the air around him thinned; Beau was trapped by the girls he had hurt. They had talked to each other, shared their experiences. They knew what he had done. Even Leslie knew.

  He had to get out of there.

  “I’ve got to go,” he muttered and took off for the parking lot.

  “Hey, Devereaux? I thought you wanted to talk?” Coach Brewer called behind him.

  Beau didn’t stop to look back at his coach. He kept going as fast as his legs would carry him, hungry for the safety of his well-protected home.

  The wind picked up in the empty lot. All the students not involved with after-school activities had taken off. The eerie silence added to his sense of vulnerability.

  Beau stepped onto the blacktop. Someone was watching him from the shadows beneath the oaks scattered around the lot. He could feel it. He scoured the trees for the girls—nothing.

  Keep it together. You’re in control, not them.

  He scurried to his car, looking over his shoulder and wrestling his keys from his front pocket. Once back at home, he would regroup and come up with a plan. They were out to get him, but they couldn’t beat Beau Devereaux.

  He muttered as he hurried along. “Stupid bitches think they can scare me?”

  He was almost to his car when the keys slipped from his shaking hands. He bent down to pick them up.

  “Where you off to in such a hurry?”

  Sara stood in front of his driver’s side door, blocking his escape.

  She was one girl; he could take her on. He charged at her. “Get out of my way!”

  “You seem flustered, Beau.” Taylor appeared on his right.

  He stepped back and bumped into someone.

  “Whoa, dude, watch the uniform.”

  Beau spun around. Kelly was behind him.

  “You can’t touch me. None of you can. I can say what I want about each of you. It will be your word against mine.”

  “No, Beau,” another voice said on his left. “No one is going to hear your side.”

  When he faced Leslie, his throat closed, cutting off his air. It was Dawn staring at him from beyond the grave.

  “Get away from me. I had nothing to do with what happened to your sister.”

  Leslie’s cold, hollow eyes burned into him. She eased closer. “We know better.”

  Fed up, Beau cocked his arm back to take a swing at her when something pricked his neck.

  He clasped the spot below his left ear. “Oww, what the hell was that?”

  Kelly held up a syringe. “I swiped it from the vet I work for. I figured if it can knock a horse out, you haven’t got a prayer.” She recapped the needle and stuck it in the front pocket of her uniform. “Any last words?”

  “You bitch!” Beau stumbled, becoming woozy. “What did you give me?”

  Leslie stood in front of him. “Just a teaser of things to come.”

  It was getting hard to stand. “You won’t get away with this.” He sank to his knees.

  Taylor stood over him. “Oh, yes, we will.”

  He pitched headfirst into the parking lot just as everything went black.

  * * *

  Beau awoke in blurry darkness; his mouth a desert. He blinked a few times, and when things came into focus, he wished they hadn’t.

  He was in the charred remains of The Abbey. Burnt pews and fallen beams littered the blackened, debris-covered floor. He could see the clear night sky through the hole in the roof. The acrid smell of smoke burned his nose. He tried to move but couldn’t. Zip ties secured his hands and legs to a wooden chair. Around his feet flickered several candles.

  “Seems fitting to bring you here,” a female voice said in front of him. “Back to the scene of the crime.”

  He raised his head, woozy with the movement. Shapes formed beyond the golden aura of candlelight.

  Kelly, Taylor, Sara, and Leslie, still in their cheerleading uniforms, stood in front of him. The red ribbons in their hair matched their heavy lipstick, giving each girl a macabre, Joker-like appearance.

  Beau, still a little drunk from the drug, laughed. “So, what is this? Some kind of hashtag-me-too revenge club? You’ve got nothing on me.”

  “We’ve got you, Beau.” Leslie leaned over the candles, her eyes aglow in the fiery light. “You could go to jail for murder one, do you know that?”

  Her husky voice reawakened all the wonderful plans he had for her.

  “I didn’t hurt anyone.”

  Taylor stepped forward. “You lying piece of dogshit. What about me?”

  “Or the sick, perverted time you had with me in the cells?” Kelly added.

  Sara folded her arms. “Try and talk your way out of that, asshole.”

  They couldn’t touch him, and he knew it. They had more to lose by talking and would never risk it.

  “What are you going to do? File charges? With what evidence? And even then, who would believe you? You all got what you wanted.”

  “What about my sister?” Leslie slapped him hard across the face. “Did she get what she wanted? You killed her!”

  The sting incited his outrage. His fingers twitched while he struggled against the zip ties. “I never touched Dawn. I cared for her.”

  “Cared? Like you cared for the girl who ended up dead in the river?” Taylor held up her phone in front of him. “Remember her?”

  The video was grainy, but she had captured Andrea’s face, her head tilted toward the camera while Beau trailed kisses down her neck.

  “I didn’t get a chance to hang around and get more. You almost caught me. Tomorrow morning this video will be sent in an anonymous email to Sheriff Davis. Then the police will find out you knew her.”

  Leslie took the phone from Taylor. “What do you think your daddy will do then?”

  He looked from one girl to the other, his fear evaporating. “Nothing. I had s
ex with the girl. She happened to show up dead in the river. I didn’t do it.”

  “No, Beau.” Leslie shook her head. “We know you did do it. The same way you killed Dawn, destroyed Taylor and Kelly. The same way you tormented me and Sara. And you have to pay.”

  He was done with their games. They were only four stupid girls with nothing on him that would hold up. Ready to turn the tide in his favor, he rocked the chair back and forth, attempting to get free.

  He pushed too hard and the chair tipped to the side, toppling over and scattering a few of the candles. Beau hit his head on a charred beam and yelped in pain.

  With burning cheeks and fury, he fought even harder against his restraints. How dare they think they can treat him like this?

  Kelly patted the top of his head. “You’re going to have a long night on the floor like that.”

  “Get me up!” His shriek resonated throughout the ruins of The Abbey.

  Taylor snapped a picture with her phone. “No, you will stay right there. So the police will know where to find you in the morning.”

  Taylor, Kelly, and Sara backed into the shadows while Leslie moved forward.

  Her smirk exacerbated his rage. He ached to be free. The acidic burn of panic flooded his mouth. He thrashed, sucked in gulps of air, and strained until the zip ties cut into his wrists, Black spots formed in front of his eyes from the exertion.

  Leslie knelt beside him. “You’re going to spend a long time in prison, having done to you what you did to my sister and these girls. Enjoy hell, Beau.” She stepped over him to join the others. “I just hope the dogs don’t get you before the sheriff does.”

  Their figures melded with the darkness. They reached the burnt arch that was once The Abbey doorway, and he lost them completely.

  When the only sound he could detect was the cold wind whipping through the charred beams above, Beau’s outrage was replaced by fear.

  * * *

  Seconds turned into minutes. Beau continued to struggle, but the zip ties were too tight.

  Think. There has got to be a way out of this.