by Patti Larsen
Oh, she was going. Right to Curtis. And he was going to tell her everything she wanted to know. Sterling’s sudden hard swallow past his posturing anger told her he knew what her next stop would be. Gerri tensed, hoping she wouldn’t find the kid dead, too.
What a mess.
She turned and left, stomping for the door, already reaching for her phone. She might not like him even a tiny scrap, but she had a partner for a reason. One who should be closer to the Lounge location than she was.
“Pierce!” She snarled at him as she exited the mansion and almost threw herself down the stairs toward the car. “Get to Starlet. Now!”
***
INT. – THE STARLET LOUNGE – EARLY EVENING
Ray sat in the back of the car, heart pounding, soul aching. She should have stayed at the morgue with Roxy’s body, instead of giving in to the plea in Gerri’s voice. She’d been standing over the fallen queen, tape recorder at the ready, prepped to start the autopsy she’d put off as long as she could. Her shaking hands refused to review the X-Rays, her fingers quivering on the handle of her scalpel. Everything in Ray screamed at her to back away, even while the urge to cut through flesh and saw through bone to reveal the truth ate at her with an intensity more frightening than any missing heart.
Gerri’s call had been an excuse, an escape. She’d left Dr. Druit to handle the procedure, run out, hoping he would find what she feared. Or only a normal man who loved to play woman. Either way, Ray hated herself for her cowardice.
She’d thought this trip would be satisfying, a way to either prove or disprove the guilt of a man she despised purely on principle. How wrong she’d been, thinking there was victory over hate. Nothing she could have faced in the morgue would have been worse. Every word Mary spoke back at the mansion cut through her like the knife the murderer used to kill those women. She’d played her best Mummy, to back up Kinsey’s play, and it paid off. And yet, Ray couldn’t help but fear what they’d find when they finally tracked down Curtis.
They’d broken him. They had to have, Sterling and his so-called righteous followers. She’d had such vitriol thrown at her most of her adult life, either thinly veiled from her hideous mother, from Mummy’s cultured friends and their cruel and entitled sons and daughters. College had been a happy reprieve, a place to meet those who either had no idea she was gay or didn’t really give a damn. But she knew the crushing pressure of family, how deeply she wore her scars from years of judgment and constant pushing to just be normal.
After meeting his timid mother and seeing right through the cunning nastiness of Reverend Sterling, Ray couldn’t imagine what Curtis went through. If he did kill Aisling and Roxy… why? Maybe Gerri was right. He did it under orders. But she’d met him at both crime scenes, had seen his anguish as he watched the bodies slipped into bags, taken away. Felt it in her own empathetic heart. He wasn’t the kind to just blindly kill, not when he clearly cared about them so much.
Fury woke and burst inside her, driving her short nails into the palms of her hands, cutting tiny, crescent shapes into her flesh. She was glad Kinsey took the passenger seat, that Gerri was too worked up to look back, to see the expression that had to rule Ray’s face. Her own need to turn the car around, stomp up the stairs and kick the living shit out of those two monsters.
Because Curtis, Aisling, Roxy and all the dancers and patrons at the Starlet Lounge were far more human than Mary and Sterling.
She was wrong, thinking her highly observant friend didn’t know just how deeply this hurt her. “Ray.” Gerri’s voice carried, low and deep, to the back seat. She looked up, hands unclenching from instinctual response as she schooled her features to calm. Another thing to thank Mummy for. “I’m sorry, Ray. We all know they’re crackpots.”
Ray shrugged, looking out the window, still burbling with rage, but unable to show it, even to her closest friends. Though, when Kinsey spun in her seat and looked over the top at her with her wide, blue eyes, Ray almost lost her lifelong shell in favor of breaking down. “Of course,” she said. “Lunatics, the lot of them. I hope when they’re burning in hell, the devil tells them just how delighted he was they did his job for him.”
Gerri fell silent and, after a moment, to Ray’s relief, Kinsey spun back and gave her peace. It didn’t matter, any of it. Except for Curtis and how broken she feared he was.
There was no sign of Jackson’s car when they pulled up outside the Starlet Lounge. The night was young enough Ray was certain the shows wouldn’t have started yet, though there were likely early patrons inside. She exited the car slowly, following Kinsey’s bobbing ponytail, keeping her slim friend between herself and the towering redhead in the lead. She’d let Gerri and Kinsey deal with this, hang back, stay out of the way. If she had a moment to talk to him, she’d comfort Curtis. If he let her. She’d met those damaged by doctrine before, when she did a stint for her license in a mental institution. Two sisters, boy gay, tortured and molested by men of their church, in an effort to turn them straight. As if raping lesbians would make them want a penis inside them.
It still made Ray want to throw up, the blank stares of the girls, the way they refused to let anyone touch them but each other. How they would scream and scream if the orderlies came near. The only person they let close was Ray. She wondered if they sensed she was like them. She tried to reach them, to get to them. But it was far too late.
Six months after her rotation ended, she found out the twins killed themselves one night, overdosing on meds they’d hoarded for just that purpose, dying in each other’s arms.
Ray shook off the memory as she passed through the door to the club, the humid air outside giving way to the sticky, rank scent inside. The AC chugged valiantly to clear the heat, but with little result. The lights were already down, a few tables with inhabitants, though, as she suspected, the full crowd had yet to arrive. She’d been here before, about three months ago, with a woman she thought might turn into something more than an occasional lay. Neither the night at the bar nor her date impressed her, both turning into something sad and rather pathetic she had to leave behind. She’d enjoyed Aisling’s dance, though, she remembered that much. Ray’s eyes lifted to the poster near the stage where the dancer’s image still hung and her sadness almost overwhelmed her.
Gerri moved ahead, cornering Salvador at the far end of the club, Kinsey at her side. Ray watched them a moment, turning to look behind the bar. A gorgeous man with thick, black hair and more makeup on than her winked and held up a glass. How she would love a stiff scotch and a reason to forget. She shook her head and smiled, always polite.
Salvador was shaking his head, and Gerri looked unhappy. The old dancer turned, likely heading for his office. Ray held her place, contemplated going home, suddenly tired. This wasn’t in her job description. But, when she turned back, second guessing that drink, her eyes caught a hint of motion near the stage door and she froze.
Curtis hid behind the partially open door, staring at Gerri. For a long moment, Ray hovered there, mouth open. There he was, right in front of her. She had to move, call for Gerri, something. But, when he finally turned his head and met her eyes, she realized no one else understood and if they were going to bring him in, it was up to her.
She headed for him, stride lengthening. Curtis hesitated, then disappeared. By the time she passed through the door, Gerri’s big voice calling her name and getting closer, he was gone. Ray ran down the narrow hall, the squeal of the back door pulling her forward, panic gripping her. She didn’t know why she needed to reach him first, only that the drive to do so was so powerful she hit the stage door with her shoulder hard enough it banged against the dumpster with a booming sound.
Ray stumbled out into the alley, tripping over a small pothole, and into Curtis’s arms.
“I’m sorry,” he said, tears on his face, a knife flashing in his hand. “My demon made me do it.”
***
INT. to EXT. – THE STARLET LOUNGE – EARLY EVENING
Gerri acted o
n instinct. As soon as she saw Ray heading for the stage door, she knew, trusted her gut when it warned her to move.
Follow her.
Kinsey was right behind her. Gerri could feel her keeping pace, though her panting told Gerri Kinsey really needed a few weeks at the gym to build up her cardio. Not that it mattered when Ray was up ahead, crashing through the stage door, falling out into the night.
Gerri’s gun was in her hands, her stomach in her throat, as she leaped through the opening into the night and pulled the trigger. “Police! Drop the knife!” So her warning came after the fact, after her bullet cut through Curtis’s thigh and dropped him to the filthy pavement, sending Ray spinning to the side, falling to her knees. To his credit, the bartender didn’t let go of his weapon, clinging to it like his was part of him.
“I said drop it.” Gerri eased closer, gun steady, everything hot around the edges. It was as though she could taste the air, feel every nuance of variation in the ground under her feet. Hear his heartbeat racing in time with hers. Smell his blood as the craving for a blue-rare steak made her mouth flood with saliva.
This. Gerri’s whole life was this.
Except, her prey wasn’t supposed to beat himself with his free hand, sobbing and wailing like a little boy lost. The burning of the tingle inside her eased as Gerri’s odd sense retreated, leaving her frustrated and more than a little angry.
Screw the freak show. She’d gotten here thanks to police work, damn it. He was guilty, no way he’d convince her otherwise. The knife looked like a perfect match. And though Aisling was gone, she still had Roxy to pin on him. But, even if there was no case remaining, if somehow this all went south, Gerri didn’t care.
He killed those women. And she’d find a way to make sure he paid for it.
Kinsey was with Ray, helping her to her feet. Gerri spared them a quick glance as her doctor friend shook her head, dark hair a halo around her, back lit by the streetlight.
“Please, Gerri, be gentle.” Damn it, she had to say something, didn’t she? Gerri’s sympathy was already peeking out. Something she didn’t need, not when the odds of him ever standing trial for his crimes were slim to zilch. He had insanity plea written all over him.
“Don’t tell me this isn’t his fault, Ray.” Gerri tried to hunt down her anger, found a patch of it humming deep inside. But Ray had won, Gerri knew it. Was just delaying the inevitable. “He killed them.”
“I did,” Curtis said, suddenly calm, big eyes bright with madness as he stared up at her. Gerri’s gun followed him as he stood, still holding the knife. She moved sideways, placing herself between him and her friends, ready to put a bullet in his heart. Her mind hiccupped. If he had one.
Damn it all to hell.
“I killed them.” Curtis looked down at the knife in his hand. Gerri followed his every move, the runnel of blood tracing down his black pants almost invisible but for the wetness of it. A small pool formed by his shoe, taunting her with its heavy, copper aroma, as he spoke again. “I’m the devil, you see. The demon in me survived, no matter what the reverend said. What he did.” Curtis met Gerri’s eyes, expression almost peaceful. A small smile, the look of an angel, empty of remorse or even concern beamed back at her. “I tried so hard to be a good boy. To be the soldier of hope they wanted me to be. But I loved her.” He rocked forward on his good foot, knife swaying at his side, held loosely now. “She was a star in the sky and I was a mere mortal who didn’t deserve to have her shine on me.”
“Aisling.” Ray’s voice reached them both, but not as an interruption. She spoke the name like a caress.
Curtis’s smile widened. “Aisling,” he said. “She said she loved me, me of all people.” He shook his head, amazement on his face. “She made me feel things…” he trailed off, swallowing, face constricting, as though remembering something too painful to forget. “Things I wasn’t supposed to feel.” That sounded familiar. Oz’s confession wasn’t so far off this one. “It’s my fault. I was weak. She was the strong one. I just couldn’t bring myself to believe she was a demon.”
“Until that night.” Ray joined Gerri, who hissed at her to stay back. She ignored her, though she didn’t get in the way. Just stood there at Gerri’s side, one hand extended. “What happened, Curtis?”
“I wanted to be with her.” The wail was back in his voice, so hurt it cut Gerri to the quick. “I gave her what she wanted, gave in to her temptation. And I discovered the truth.” His face darkened, hardened as his hand tightened on the knife again. Gerri’s grip on her gun shifted slightly, finger slipping from the side of the gun to the trigger. Ready to kill him if she had to. “When I finally gave in, she laughed at me when it was done. Told me she never loved me. And left me to the demon within.”
Heartless. Gerri shivered.
“Curtis.” Ray’s voice ached with her own hurt. “You’re not possessed. You’re gay. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Maybe not once. But now? One look at him told Gerri he was so broken he’d never put himself back together again.
“Why Roxy, Curtis?” Gerri tried to mimic Ray’s tone, hit it well enough. “What did she do to you?”
He gestured with the knife, a casual move, as though stabbing a phantom in his head. Gerri shifted sideways, pushing Ray back. Any second now. Were she alone, she’d risk it, tackle him, take him down. But she just couldn’t risk the girls getting in the way. And despite his obvious madness, Gerri was reluctant to kill him. Selfish reasons. She needed someone to prove Aisling was dead. His confession might be the leverage she required to find out what the hell was going on.
“She knew,” he said. “About me and Aisling and the demon making me do bad things.” He quivered, shot leg buckling once before his knee popped back into place “She had the Bible I gave to Aisling, the special one I took from the reverend. That proved she was a demon.”
The symbols. “Why the symbols, Curtis?”
He stared at her a long moment, suddenly still. Then, his free hand settled on the hem of his T-shirt. “The truth and the word,” he said, jerking it up. Gerri’s stomach heaved. Six brands, burn scars. The same symbols embedded in his chest. Ray gasped, or was that Kinsey? Didn’t matter. “The demon inside can’t survive the truth and the word.” But he laughed then. “That’s what he told me! He lied!”
Gerri didn’t know what to say to that. But Curtis had to be talking about Sterling.
And he wasn’t done. He shook his head as though dazed. “Roxy said she was going to tell on me, tell the reverend.” His eyes grew huge, bulging, hand clenched around the knife. “I couldn’t go back to the center,” he said, his desperation so powerful it hit Gerri like a wave. “To the treatments. They couldn’t know.” He hung his head, shoulders stiff. “And she was possessed. So I did my duty.”
This was it, the final piece she needed. “Curtis,” Gerri said, controlled and precise, the tingling returning to surge around her, through her, drawing her focus tight. “Did Reverend Sterling order you to kill those women?”
Curtis looked up again, something truly horrible shining in his eyes. “No,” he said. “I did that myself.”
Damn it.
“Please, Curtis, put the knife down.” Ray was almost in tears from the sound of her voice. “Let us help you.”
He wavered, the darkness leaving him, just a hurt and scared kid left behind. “You can’t,” he said. “The devil owns me.”
“He doesn’t.” Ray walked around Gerri again, this time too far for her liking. What the hell was she doing, trying to get herself killed? The trigger compressed ever so slightly, barrel end aimed at his chest. “Just, give me the knife and let’s get you somewhere safe.”
Curtis slumped, mouth pulled down in sorrow, the blade in his hand swinging as his grip loosened. “You really understand,” he whispered.
“I really do.” She held out one hand and, for a moment, Gerri was sure she was going to do it. Disarm him, damn her, just like that.
“Meyers!” Jackson and his per
fect fucking timing. Curtis spun at the sound of Gerri’s partner’s voice, a mask of rage surging to the surface. He took a step toward the end of the alley where Jackson stood, gun drawn. His arm came up, the blade flashing in the light.
And Jackson pulled the trigger. Once, twice the muzzle flashed, the booming sound of the weapon’s discharge ricocheting down the alley. Curtis spun part way around on impact of the second bullet, one to the chest, the second to the center of his forehead. Just in time for Gerri to watch the light go out of his eyes.
And see the peace that fell over him in his last moment to the sound of Ray screaming his name.
***
EXT. – THE STARLET LOUNGE – EARLY EVENING
Gerri lowered her gun as Ray shot past her, falling to her knees beside Curtis’s body. When she looked up, her face twisted in fury, Gerri holstered her gun as quickly as possible, grabbing Ray before she could hurtle herself at the approaching Jackson.
“He was giving himself up!” Gerri had never seen Ray break down before, wasn’t sure what to do with her. Suddenly she was all slippery and boneless, making it impossible for Gerri to hold her back. Kinsey appeared at Gerri’s side, leaping between Ray and Jackson, finally giving her the leverage she needed to keep Ray from lunging at her partner. “You fucking bastard, you didn’t have to kill him.”
Jackson shrugged with a frown, his own gun going in the holster under his jacket. “Dude was coming at me with a knife.”
Gerri hated to admit it, especially in front of this asshole. “It was a good shoot, Ray.” As much as she’d like to think otherwise, that maybe Curtis would have given up the knife instead of forcing Gerri to pull the trigger before he could plant it in Ray’s chest. “Let it go.”
Ray turned away from her after staring with so much hurt Gerri worried she might never forgive her. Kinsey shook her head and led Ray away, though not in anger. With sympathy. Gerri wished her blonde friend hadn’t triggered her guilt.