Taboo Unchained(80)

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” I ask, even as the officer presents a piece of paper. It could be a search warrant or a pornographic magazine, I don't give a shit. I refuse to look at it.

“Didn't count on those security cameras next door, did you, Carter?”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Security cameras?” Hopefully Robbie knows where to hide in the back, how to get past them without being seen. I can only hope. As of now, there's nothing else I can do.

Barry Craig smirks and glances around at the other officers, scurrying around my place like ants.

“Saw you walk outside and come back with the girl in your arms. No doubt about it, Carter. You're in a bad spot right now. Why don't you tell us where to find Roberta Carrell and maybe then, we won't have to pry up your floorboards or put holes in your walls.” I make a noise of frustration and turn away, raking my fingers through my hair. Nobody but Audra sees the smirk on my face.

“I don't know where she is,” I say, looking over my shoulder to find Barry Craig moving aside to allow some other brass to move into the house. They stare at me for a moment before they're joined by two plainclothes detectives. Immediately all of their attention is drawn to some ruckus in the hallway and the presentation of my new carpeting, the paint, and the handcuffs that were previously used on Audra Holiday's wrists.

Evidence bags are brought out and the items catalogued.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” I say, exchanging a glance with Audra. By this point, the entire house and yard have been swept, and it's become obvious that Robbie Carrell isn't here. “I was simply trying to help the girl out.” Audra wraps her fingers around my arm and bites at her lip in faux nervousness. “I heard her crying for help outside and found a blonde teenager passed out in the front seat of a car.”

All eyes turn to me and my story.

“Lucas Carter,” one of the officers says, but I cut him off.

“She was drunk out of her mind, so I brought her inside and Audra and I got her some water and ibuprofen. As soon as she woke up, and I thought she had slept most of the drunk off, Roberta left out the back door. I haven't seen her since.”

“And you chose to lie to the officers because?” one of the detectives asks. I hardly take any notice of him. It's not him I'm worried about. In fact, he looks downright bored out of his mind to be here. Barry Craig might just be a street cop, but there's a look in his eye that says he's the dangerous one.

“Teenager who drank too much, worried about how dad might react if he found out? I've been there, done that. I was just trying to help.” I sigh. “I had no idea it would turn into this.”

“So where's the girl?” Barry Craig asks before his superior holds up a hand.

“I have no idea,” I say, sounding perfectly and understandably exasperated. “I fell asleep after she left. Slept straight through until Audra here showed up. We have dinner plans.”

“Not anymore,” one of the officers coughs, and I glare at him with an outraged expression.

“Mr. Carter, you do understand that lying to an officer is a crime?” Audra sniffles and gets teary at the same time I sigh and slam the palm of my hand into my forehead. I do my best to look away and nod stiffly. The whole time I'm acting, playing this little cat and mouse game, the demon wants to scream, to howl, to smile. He wants to take the pocketknife and start cutting throats. Having Audra so close doesn't make things any easier. She'd probably help me do it.

The detectives sigh, and one of them moves up to me to take a statement. My house is catalogued, evidence carted away, and twenty minutes after most of the officers leave, Roberta Carrell is reported found.



“Tomorrow at six, huh?” Audra asks me over dinner. After all that, I decided the best way to continue to divert suspicion was to take my fiancée out on a date. Oh, and buy her a ring? Every so often, I catch Audra Holiday gazing at the diamonds with a look of plain awe on her face. Despite the fact that our union   is as fake as Mrs. Braxton's breasts, she seems enamored with it. For me, all it does is stir up memories of Isadora and our failed marriage. I have her ring, actually, but I felt wrong giving that bit of sordid history out. The pain of those memories is mine and mine alone. So I spent several thousand dollars on a new one, just to keep up appearances. At this rate, I may have to go back to Mrs. Braxton for the money. “What do you think we should do about it?”

“We?” I ask, with both brows raised. My eyes catch on a bus boy whose gaze lingers for far too long on Miss Holiday's heaving breasts. I can feel the muscles around my mouth tightening.

“Yes, we. This is essentially my fault because of the whole,” Audra waves her fork around and then sticks a bite of filet mignon into her sumptuous mouth, “Mark thing. However, the one Clarice wants is you. Add these two things together, and this makes an us.” Audra pauses, reaching the fingers of her left hand out towards her wine glass. In some ways, she's ridiculously crude, but the way she clutches the stem, holds it to her lips, I can almost believe there's a bit of refinement straining to get out.