Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
It wasn’t Beau’s first trip inside a maximum-security prison. Not his first, not his second. Hell, he really wasn’t sure how many visits he’d paid.
The first time he’d ever stepped foot in one? That visit he distinctly recalled. He’d been eight years old. He’d come visiting with his mother because she wanted him to meet his father. The bastard hadn’t given two shits about his scrawny kid, though. Tattoos had covered his father’s arms. His fingers.
And tear drops had been carefully etched just beneath his cold, dark eyes.
Beau had told his mother that he never wanted to go back to that place.
And, yet, he had. Not to see his father. He’d never seen that man again. But, other times, he’d returned. To see other people. Sometimes, he’d gone to help. Sometimes, he’d gone to terrify.
Of course, the cops had even worked to get him locked up a few times.
Beau hated the sound of a cell door closing. He never wanted to be locked in a cage again.
The DA side-eyed him as Beau stood near the back wall in the room. Beau just sent him a wide grin determined to show none of the emotions rocketing through him. He knew that Douglas Baptiste was not happy to see him, and that was putting it very, very mildly. Understatement of the century. Not like Beau didn’t remember the guy. Douglas had been an up-and-coming prosecutor when their paths had first crossed.
Douglas had wanted to send Beau away for murder.
Beau hadn’t felt like being convicted of the crime. Especially because he hadn’t been guilty. Had he beat the shit out of the guy when the prick got rough with one of his waitresses? Hell, yes. Done. Had Beau murdered the man? No, someone else had finished the job. A killer who had never been caught.
Luckily, Beau had been cleared. Thanks to Ophelia. The woman truly was one hell of a PI. And, now that she’d paired up with Lane Lawson, the two were pretty unstoppable. One of the reasons Beau had gotten them involved with Avalon’s arson case weeks ago.
Long before she strolled into my club.
“Tell me again why he has to be here,” Douglas muttered. He jerked on his tie. The blue and gray tie was wrinkled to hell and back because of his nervous jerks.
Two silent guards remained in position near the lone door in the room. The prisoner hadn’t been brought in yet. But Everett Thomas was on his way.
“He’s here because he’s with me,” Avalon replied. She sounded all casual and calm, but he knew she was just hiding her real emotions, too. He’d seen her nerves back at the hotel suite as she prepared for this nightmare of a meeting.
Douglas glowered.
Beau winked at him.
The glower got worse.
“You agreed to let him be here.” A crisp reminder from Avalon. “You’re aware there was an attack at my house—I told you about it yesterday during our very long phone conversation.” Avalon did not look up from the papers in front of her. “Beau is acting as my bodyguard.”
“Bodyguard,” Beau repeated. “My eyes are on her.” That was certainly true. He’d been watching that sweet ass of Avalon’s for quite a while.
“Where I go, he goes,” she continued after flickering a glance in Beau’s direction. “And considering that one of our suspicions is that Everett Thomas might have ordered someone to torch my place, I needed to be here in order to interview him again.”
Douglas stopped tugging on his tie and pointed at Beau. “Your place got torched, too. I heard all about it from some cops and an arson investigator. What’s the theory, bodyguard? You going to tell me that you think Everett hired someone to torch LeBlanc’s, too?”
He didn’t respond.
Avalon did. “LeBlanc’s was one of the bars that Everett specifically mentioned to me when I was here last. Perhaps he believes Beau is the one who, uh, wrapped him up for the police and Everett wanted some vengeance. Seeing his reaction to Beau’s presence should be quite telling.”
The DA took a step toward him. “Did you do it?” he demanded.
Beau let his eyes widen. “Do what?”
“Knock out Everett Thomas and leave him for the cops to find?”
“Why in the world would I do something like that?” Because the prick needed to be stopped before he hurt someone else? Because Everett Thomas is a freak who should never see the light of day? Because the cops were going to let him slip through their fingers? Beau shook his head. “Just doesn’t seem like something that would interest me. I already have plenty of hobbies. Getting into the gift-wrapping business holds no appeal for me.”
The door opened. The prisoner shuffled in. His wrists and his ankles were manacled. His gaze immediately went to Avalon as she sat with her back perfectly straight at the table.
A flash of hunger filled his eyes.
Oh, the hell, no. Beau stiffened.
A wide smile curved Everett’s lips. That smile froze when his gaze drifted and landed on Beau.
Beau sent him a very grim smile of his own. “Hello, there, Slasher.”
Everett swallowed. He also backed up a step and almost hit the guard who’d followed him inside. Three guards in the room now.
“What’s happening here?” Everett’s voice cracked in the middle of the question.
Douglas advanced toward him. “An additional Q&A session. We can certainly have your lawyer present, but the last time you spoke with Avalon, you waived?—”
“I only want to talk to her!” His nostrils flared. The orange prison jumper made his pale skin look all the more garish under the light. “No one else.” He lifted his cuffed hands—as much as they would lift because a thin chain connected the cuffs around his wrists to the manacles around his ankles—and he pointed toward Beau. “Not him! He needs to get the hell out!”
Beau kept his smile in place. He was not going anywhere.
“We’re a package deal,” Avalon informed Everett crisply. “Where I go, he goes. And vice versa. So if you want to have another chat with me, you’ll do it with him watching.”
Douglas moved to stand in front of Everett. The DA completely blocked the other man from Beau’s line of sight. “There a reason you’re afraid of Beau LeBlanc?” Douglas asked the prisoner.
Beau couldn’t see Everett, but he could hear the man’s ragged breathing.
Avalon turned her head. She peered at Beau. Quirked one brow. That little quirk clearly asked, So, what’s this about?
He shrugged. How was he supposed to know why serial killers acted crazy? Wasn’t that more her thing?
“You obviously know him, Everett,” Douglas’s voice held heavy suspicion. “How do you know Beau?”
“He came to my bar a few times,” Beau responded as he kept his voice low. Almost lazy. He allowed his drawl to thicken a bit as he added, “Liked to have a good time at my place, didn’t you? Everyone loves LeBlanc’s. But, I’m afraid I’ve got some unfortunate news for you on that score. Some asshole torched my bar last night.” He took a step to the side as he delivered that news. The better to see Everett’s reaction.
And Everett—the prick—his eyes lit with delight. A flash that was quickly extinguished. But not quickly enough.
The sonofabitch knows something about the fire.
“I do hope no one was hurt,” Everett murmured. “Fires. Never liked them much. Have you seen what they can do to a human body?” He shuffled forward a half-step. The manacles clanked. “The scars they leave behind on those who survive their kiss—those scars are hideous. Twisted. Red. So rough. Never to be smoothed away. Never to fade. The fire touches you, and it claims you.” He dipped his head toward Douglas. “I will sit for the Q&A. After all, it would be horribly rude to leave. Especially when Avalon wants to write my story so badly.”
One of the guards pulled out the chair that was opposite of Avalon. The guard secured Everett into the seat. Locked the chain that connected his bound hands and feet to a hook on the floor. Everett frowned briefly, but when the guard moved back, the furrow along his brow and the faint lines near his mouth smoothed away. “I knew you would be back,” he told her with a pleased nod. “Decided to help me prove my innocence, didn’t you? I certainly appreciate your assistance. With so many people on the outside calling me a monster, it’s good to know that you believe in me.”
She straightened the papers on the table. Then her hands dropped to her lap. Her hands fisted.
Sweetheart…
“I can’t prove something that isn’t possible, Everett. As I said at our last talk, I happen to believe you’re guilty as sin. Add me to the list of individuals who think you’re a monster.”
Everett threw back his head and laughed. The sound seemed to grate as it echoed in the room.
Douglas strode closer to Avalon’s side.
“I do love to talk about sin with you,” Everett said. His gaze drifted over her. “Oh, the things I could do to you…”
Beau immediately surged forward. “Watch it.”
“Isn’t that what you like to do?” Everett asked with a confused smile and a wide-eyed blink. “Watch…her?”
Oh, you sick prick. You want to play? Let’s play, Slasher.
“I’ve been lonely in this hellhole.” Everett’s smile turned upside down. “Do you know they keep me in solitary? They do. For so many long, empty hours each day. I don’t enjoy being alone. I like having…friends to talk with me.”
Douglas crossed his arms over his chest. “The time in solitary was for your own protection. You do understand that many of the inmates here want to rip you apart?”
“Not everyone is a fan.” A roll of one shoulder from Everett. “But some are.”
Douglas peered at Everett as if the prisoner had lost his mind. “You tortured and stabbed multiple women. Dismembered them. You don’t have fans. You have people who want to see you strapped to a table while a needle is plunged into you. The world can’t wait for your execution date.”
Everett’s Adam’s apple moved in a quick bob. “That can be appealed. Especially when my innocence is?—”
“You’re guilty.” From Avalon. Cold and flat. Beau had the feeling she’d been studying her prey very carefully. Her hands were still beneath the table. From his position, he could see her small fists, but he didn’t think anyone else could view them. Her spine was straight. Her shoulders squared. Her focus seemed to be entirely on the man in front of her. Avalon’s profile showed no fear.
No emotion at all.
“Not only did you kill those women, but you’ve been playing more games, haven’t you, Everett?”
She called him by his given name. Beau had deliberately addressed him by the name the media had attached to the bastard.
Slasher. Just like a freak from the horror shows. Because he’d slashed his victims to pieces. Women who’d been about Avalon’s height. Who’d had similar builds. Two blondes. Two redheads.
Those were just the victims that the authorities had confirmed. Beau was certain there were many, many more. He believed Avalon suspected the same thing.
But at Avalon’s question, Everett blinked, as if confused.
“Which friends have you been talking to, Everett?” Avalon prompted quietly.
Everett darted a glance at Beau. Then he paled even more.
Beau was sure the prick had just seen the promise of death that waited for him. “The guards need to take you out for more walks in the yard,” Beau murmured. “You’re starting to look like a ghost, Everett.” I will damn well make you into a ghost.
“Other inmates?” Avalon queried when Everett just sat in silence. “Or…since you have been in solitary, maybe it wasn’t inmates. Maybe it was a guard. Have you been chatting with some friendly guards, Everett?”
Beau realized her repeated use of Everett’s first name was deliberate. Maybe a way to disarm him?
Meanwhile Beau intended to keep calling him Slasher because that was exactly what the piece of shit was.
“Fans can come in all shapes and sizes,” Everett finally told her. He shrugged. The chain clanked.
“Unfortunately, they can.” Her hands remained beneath the table. “My home was recently torched. My home, then Beau’s bar.”
“Oh, no. That’s just terrible to hear.” But even as he said the words, Everett’s tone was off. Because his tone held delight, not sympathy.
You sick sonofabitch.
“A man was waiting in my bedroom when I got home a few nights ago.”
Everett leaned forward. Eager. Practically salivating. “Tell me everything.”
It took all of Beau’s self-control not to drive his fist into Everett’s face. That stupid, pretty-boy face that had lured women to their death because he’d been smiling and flirting and had seemed so harmless.
Screw that. One punch, and Beau could break the guy’s nose. His jaw. He could leave him in a puddle of blood on the floor. I can make you scream. Just like you made those women scream.
Avalon pulled in a slow breath. “He caught me in my bedroom. Grabbed me in a painful hold and told me that I was going to burn. I’d burn while I was alive.”
Everett licked his lips. “He hurt you. I bet—I bet he hurt you?—”
She leaned toward him.
Beau snapped his teeth together. Do not get touching close. If that prick touches you, sweetheart, all bets are off. My fist will be in his face two seconds after he touches your skin.
“I shoved my taser against his skin.” Avalon paused barely a beat. “He pissed himself in front of me.”
Everett jerked. His face scrunched in disgust.
Aw, was that not part of the story he’d wanted to hear?
“Then Beau appeared.” A soft laugh slid from Avalon. “He had the guy begging for mercy one minute later.”
Everett backed up against his seat. Fear flickered in his gaze. All traces of delight had vanished.
“The intruder—he was just a punk kid. But one who somehow had my alarm code. He got in, but we got him. And he was talking plenty by the time we were done with him. Telling us all about how he’d been hired to break in and scare me. That he was following orders.”
Everett’s breath rasped out.
Beau advanced a slow, deliberate step. He was so close to the table now.
Everett’s gaze immediately snapped to him. “Get back! I-I don’t like you so close!”
Why? Because I’m not some woman who is about seventy pounds lighter than you? Because you can’t hurt me? Beau stared down at his prey and didn’t back up so much as an inch. “You enjoy hurting women, don’t you, Slasher?”
Everett pressed his lips together. But his eyes said…yes.
“Fire isn’t your way, though. You like to slice your victims with your knives. Penetrate their bodies with the blades.”
Avalon fired a quick glance his way, then snapped her head back toward Everett.
“That’s why I know this meeting is a fucking waste of time,” Beau added with a growl of disgust. “Because if you’d wanted to get at Avalon, you wouldn’t have got some kid to use fire as a way to scare her. You would have wanted her skin sliced open.” Another slow step forward. Now he was right at the table and towering over Everett. “You would have wanted a knife plunging into her again and again.” His hands fisted.
He hated saying this shit. But Avalon had given him a script before this little meet and greet from hell. She’d seemed so certain of the way things needed to play out. Avalon had been absolutely convinced they could break through Everett’s control if they both just said and did certain things…but I hate what I’m saying. And all I want to do is rip that bastard apart.
“Told you already,” Avalon grabbed her papers and shoved them into her briefcase. A few papers had been scattered on top of the table. Purely for show. Avalon setting her scene. “He doesn’t have the power or reach to do something like that. Everett is helpless in here. He can’t possibly be tied to any attack on me?—”
“I know what happened to you, Avalon.”
She stopped shoving in the papers. Her head lifted and she stared across the table at Everett. Her lower lip trembled. “Wh-what?”
The stutter was a good touch, Beau would give her that. Or is it real? Is she scared?
“Lost little girl…” A taunt from Everett. “Were you scared when the fire came and you couldn’t get out?”
Beau started to raise his right fist.
Avalon gave a small, barely perceptible shake of her head.
“I bet you were terrified.” Everett laughed. “Did you piss yourself back then? Trapped alone in that bedroom and just not strong enough to get out?” Once more, delight filled his stare. “What were you, fourteen? Fifteen? My first victim was around that age. So much fear when you’re so young. She screamed. I bet you screamed, too.”
Help me! Avalon had screamed.
“But you got out when you shouldn’t have. The trap had been set. The fire lit. You were waiting to die. But a hero came to save the day. One who should have just stayed busy with his fucking Jag.” Everett’s neck inched forward, like a turtle’s head coming from its shell. “There won’t be anyone to save you this time.”
Ice flooded through Beau’s veins.
“Are you threatening her?” A sharp question from Douglas. He’d been avidly watching the byplay, but now he straightened to his full height. “You don’t get to threaten?—”
“I’m not going to touch her. I can’t. I’m locked away inside this hellhole. Solitary. All alone. No friends.” His head turned toward Beau. “You won’t be there.”
You can’t kill him in front of the DA. “Guess you didn’t hear the lady before. Where she goes, I go.” And if that meant into the fire, through the fire, so freaking be it.
“Does your shoulder still hurt?” A tilt of Everett’s head to the right. “I bet it does. The skin is all twisted and warped, isn’t it? Because that’s what I’ve been told the fire does. It reshapes you. Changes you. You become someone brand new when the fire takes you.” His tongue snaked over his bottom lip. “Who did you become? A scrawny gang member turned into…what?”
He knows too much. “I became the man who is going to kick your ass.” He lunged forward. Grabbed the bastard by the shoulders. Wrenched Everett up as far as those chains would allow. “You were warned,” he breathed, the words low enough for only Everett to hear.
All the color bleached from Everett’s face. And there hadn’t been much color to begin with.
But guards were shouting.
Douglas was barking commands.
Two of the guards went for Beau. They hauled him back and away from Everett even as the prisoner cried out, “Assault! You saw him! Assault! DA, you charge this man with assault!”
“Get LeBlanc’s ass out, now!” Douglas demanded. “Sonofabitch!” He ran a hand over the top of his head.
The guards hauled Beau toward the door.
He looked back. Avalon still sat at the table. Spine still straight. Fisted hands in her lap. No emotion showed on her face.
Douglas was rushing after the guards. Two were taking him out. That left only one in the room with Avalon and Everett. The guard who’d trailed Everett into the room. One guard. Fuck that. “Don’t leave her alone!” he bellowed.
Douglas froze. Glanced back.
Avalon had been whispering to Everett. And whatever she’d said…
“Take me out!” A wild yell from Everett. “Forget him—take me back to solitary! Get me out now! Get me out of here!”
The guards dropped their hold on Beau, and they grabbed Everett.