Under the Stars

by Tia Louise

  At that her eyes meet mine, defiant. “I killed a man. Gavin has it on video. How much worse can it get?”

  We stand for a moment facing each other. Her defenses are up but so are mine. I fall back on my interrogation training. I take a deep breath, step away, and bring the tension down.

  Softening my voice, I start again. “He said you lured Guy into your dressing room and killed him… I’m going to assume this was after he—”

  “You were gone.” Her voice cracks, and when I look into her eyes this time, I see she’s at the breaking point. “It was only me, alone with Molly. I was still in pain… I still hurt. I physically hurt.” She takes a shaky inhale, and her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “He burst into the room after a show, and he tried… He tried…”

  Her bottom lip trembles, and her eyes squeeze shut as if she’s in agony. I’m across the space, pulling her body to mine before she can say another word.

  “Come here.” My hands are on her back, holding her close. “Just breathe,” I whisper, and she melts into me, quivering.

  I hold her tighter, pouring my strength into her broken heart. “It’s going to be okay,” I say softly, putting my hand on the back of her hair and stroking it down.

  Lowering my chin, I kiss her head, and I feel it slowly moving back and forth.

  “No,” she whispers. “It’s not going to be okay. He’s going to hold this over me, hold me prisoner with it…”

  Her voice breaks off, and I tighten my arms around her waist. “I will never let that happen.” Sliding my hands up and down her body, I hold her until her shaking starts to subside. Until she’s able to speak without crying.

  “Talk to me,” I urge. “The more you tell me, the more I can help you.”

  She steps out of my arms and goes to the bathroom, runs water in the sink, and I open another tiny bottle. I should call room service and get them to send up a fifth, but I don’t.

  Finally she returns holding a damp washcloth to her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I never thought…”

  She doesn’t finish, but I’m pretty sure I know what her words would be. If she had known Gavin would say the things he did tonight, she would never have agreed to wear a wire. It’s cynical, but I can’t deny it based on our history—she would never have told me about Guy.

  “Who else knows about this?”

  “Roland. He was there when it happened.”

  “In your dressing room?” I rise to my feet, encouraged by this additional information. “He can verify what you’re saying—that Guy was attacking you. It was self defense.”

  Her head bows, and the guilt returns. “He wasn’t attacking me when it happened.”

  “What do you mean? Why else—”

  “He came into the room like I said, but Roland came in behind him and knocked him out with a stage pin.”

  “Are you sure that didn’t kill him?”

  She nods, stepping to the mini fridge and taking out a mini bottle of wine. I wait as she unscrews the cap and pours a glass.

  “Roland only knocked him out. He was trying to get me to safety. Roland was gathering my clothes when Guy started to wake up…”

  “And then he attacked you?”

  Her lips press together, and her eyes are downcast. “I didn’t give him a chance.”

  She doesn’t need to say another word. Standing, I go to where she is and pull her into my arms again. I don’t blame her for what she did. I remember Guy, but even more, I remember the overwhelming pressure of being in that place. I was caught up in it, but she was trapped.

  I guide us to the bed and sit against the headboard. She curls up beside me, her head on my chest, and I cradle her in my arms. I think about the sharp conflict between my duty as an officer of the law and the fact that the love of my life has committed murder, a crime so heinous, it has no statute of limitations.

  In my mind, there’s no debate over what I should do. I was present when she was being abused, being held captive by a madman. I was nearly killed trying to stop what happened to her, and if that puts me in direct conflict with my oath as an officer, then fuck it. I’ll walk away from that oath.

  But I won’t have to make that decision.

  “You acted in self defense,” I say with finality. “If anyone knows that, it’s me, and I’m going to prove it. I will never let you be punished for what you’ve done.”

  “Mark,” she whispers, wrapping a slim arm around my waist. “I was so afraid I’d lost you.”

  Her lips press against my neck, and her breath hiccups. I reach for her chin and lift her lips to mine, kissing her gently. I taste the salt of her tears; I feel the damp on her cheek, and everything in me is focused on comforting her.

  For the first time since we left the club, the tension in my chest eases. I tighten my hold on this woman who will be my wife. This woman I will never let go to prison for ridding the world of one of the most hideous monsters I’ve ever encountered.

  I kiss her head, wanting to hold her until the fear subsides. At the same time, we don’t have a moment to lose. Gavin has shown his hand, and we have to move fast before he starts destroying evidence we can use against him. If Gavin recorded everything, that means he has Lara’s reason for killing Guy somewhere on video as well.

  I intend to find it.

  “Lara?” My voice is gentle. “I love you.”

  Her body relaxes more, and I hug her closer. I can’t remember if I’ve said those words out loud since our reunion. I’ve shown her so many ways, with my body, with my plans. I’ve asked her to marry me…

  “I love you,” she whispers, and my planning momentarily stalls. I’m fucking king of the world.

  I hug her closer, kissing her head, relishing this moment, and my mind is flying, hours down the road.

  “We have to go to New Orleans, my love.” I kiss her head again. “Now. We don’t have time to lose.”

  She nods against my chest, seeming to understand the urgency. I hold her a bit longer until she sits up and pushes her hair away from her face. She touches the tears away, and with all the warmth burning in my chest, I watch as she summons that incredible strength she’s always had.

  I saw it the first time she climbed the ladder after falling. I saw it again on that train to Canada, and now, after being hit with a low blow, I see it rise again.

  “I’ll tell Roland. We can be ready to leave as soon as you are.”

  * * *

  Lara

  Molly stands at the dresser, looking at my reflection in the mirror.

  She’s defiant, but she doesn’t know what I’m up against. She wasn’t there when I killed Guy, and I’ve never seen a reason to tell her about it. I’m not looking to give her another excuse to justify her vigilantism.

  “We’re going back to New Orleans. Mark booked us tickets to leave in two hours.”

  “I’m not going back there.” Her eyes are flinty, and I know we’ve reached the fork in the road, the place where we go our separate ways.

  “I thought you might say that.”

  “So?” She shakes her silver mane off her shoulders. “Why are you here?”

  “I wanted to know your plans. What will you do?”

  She goes to the closet and carefully takes her jacket off the hanger. “For starters, I’ll find a place to live.” She places the garment in the base of her suitcase then continues to her toiletries, collecting them in order of use, morning first.

  “Did you have something in mind? What about a job?”

  “Joshua offered to let me crash at his place until I find something.” Her expression is neutral as she arranges the breakable items between socks and underwear.

  “He has a crush on you.”

  “A crush.” She says the words like they smell bad. “I’m nineteen years old, Lara.”

  “I didn’t say you had a crush on him.” I step back, allowing her access to the drawers where her shirts are arranged by color. “I only thought you should know he might have more of an ulterior motive than sh
eer generosity.”

  “I don’t think Joshua has an ulterior bone in his body.” She places the shirts in her bag ordered by color.

  Thinking of his silver hair tonight, I nod. “He’s a sweet kid.”

  “He’s not a kid. He’s twenty-one.”

  “No shit.” Crossing my arms, I step out of the way again. She’s moving fast, gathering her things, but I can’t tell if she’s angry. “In that case, you should be even more aware he has feelings for you.”

  “He’s not going to hurt me.”

  “If I thought that, I wouldn’t be so calm about it.”

  Blue eyes cut up to mine before she continues stuffing her few belongings into her small suitcase. I can’t help remembering the day we left the theater so long ago. We had half as much as we do now. Still, we travel light.

  “You don’t have to leave tonight, you know. We’ve paid through tomorrow morning.”

  “It’s okay. It’s easier to catch up with everyone at night.” The last of her belongings are in the case, and she zips it up. “They hang around the same places.”

  We’re out the door, walking slowly down the hall. Mark has our bags in the lobby, waiting for a Lyft to the airport. Roland meets us with sleeping Jillian on his arm.

  “Goodbye for now, shortcake,” he says, stepping forward to kiss her cheek. “Make good choices. Don’t do drugs.”

  “You, too.” She holds her face up like she always does. Her eyes glide over my sleeping infant then up to me. “We can take the elevator together.”

  “Of course.” We follow Roland, and my stomach feels like a lead weight is dragging it down to my feet.

  For almost seven years, we’ve been inseparable. We left New Orleans together, and as she’s gone through all of these changes, as she’s confronted and slain her demons, I’ve been with her, taking care of her, making sure she’s safe. Even as she’s pulled away from me, we’ve still only been steps apart.

  Now a strange fear clutches at my chest.

  “I’m not abandoning you.” I need to have those words on the record. “I have to take care of… a matter back in the city. Roland has to get back to work. Mark—”

  “Mark is going wherever you go. He’s in love with you.”

  We’re in the elevator, and Roland pretends to be occupied with Jilly, but I know he’s listening to every word we say.

  “I love him,” I say softly.

  She nods. “Then it’s going to work out. You’ll get married. You already have a baby. You’ll get your happily ever after.”

  If only it were that simple.

  The doors open, and we emerge from the elevator. Mark is at the front desk, and when he sees us all together, when he sees Molly’s suitcase, he turns to the attendant again.

  “Looks like we’re all checking out tonight.” The man nods and types on his computer screen.

  Molly keeps walking, and I follow her to the revolving door.

  “Wait,” I say, reaching out to catch her arm. She stops, and looks up at me. “I’ll call you. I’m only going to New Orleans. It’s not the end of the world.”

  “I never said it was.” She almost laughs, and I feel silly.

  It’s strange to feel like I’m the only one who remembers when she used to wake up in the night crying, fearful and clinging to me in our tiny theater room. I remember being barely awake, exhausted and making up stories about her dancer mother or our escape plan to Paris, her little dog.

  “I’ll check on Pierre for you.”

  Her head tilts to the side. “I told Evie she could keep him. She fell in love with him when we were there last.”

  Oh.

  “Well, take care of yourself.” I release her arm and pat it, unsure if I get a hug.

  Her shoulders drop, and her lips quirk into a half smile. Stepping forward, she puts her arms around my shoulders. I wrap my arms around her waist, doing my best to fight the heat in my eyes.

  “Keep in touch,” I manage through the thickness in my throat.

  She turns, catching the handle of her rolling suitcase, and takes off. I only stand and watch her go, disappearing swiftly into the damp night, returning to the streets where I found her.

  “Don’t worry, darling, she’ll be fine.” Roland is beside me, and I take Jillian out of his arms. She kicks her little legs, but her eyes are closed as I hug her against my chest, running my nose along her head.

  “I hope so.” I allow my baby to soothe the pain in my chest.

  “She will.” He places a hand on my back. “Girls like her always land on their feet.”

  Warmth swirls behind us, and I glance up to see Mark is with us. “It’s time to catch a plane. It’ll be tomorrow when we get to New Orleans, and we have a lot of catching up to do.”

  One last glance up the sidewalk, and I step into the car waiting to take us to the airport.

  10

  The best view comes after the hardest climb.

  Mark

  “I never should have worked for him as long as I did.” My eyes follow the swaying of the topless dancers in the private booths behind the bar, but my mind is years away, remembering my role in the sins of this city.

  Terrence sits beside me at the bar, a pint of Guinness in front of him. “You can’t blame yourself for trying to earn a living.”

  “I could have gone to the Bahamas with you.”

  He slaps my arm. “And leave behind the love of your life?”

  My eyes drop to my beer. “I was always pretty obvious back then.”

  “He took advantage of your character. You showed your hand when you grabbed that rope. It put you on the radar just as sure as a nice rack would’ve in that place.”

  I look up at the girls swaying side to side. They wear less clothes at the jazz club now—pasties and thongs instead of skimpy bras and tiny shorts. None of them are as gorgeous as Lara.

  “How did you get mixed up in that racket anyway?” He fumbles with an unlit cigarette.

  “They let me smoke at work,” he says with a laugh. “No, it was good pay. I knew where to draw the line. When to walk away.”

  “You didn’t have to work there. You could’ve charged more for rent.”

  “Then how would I have met you?” He gives me a wink. “I’ve never been too worried about money. You get on that hamster wheel and you never get off.”

  “So what motivates you?”

  He shrugs. “Beauty, freedom.”

  “And?”

  “Pretty girls showing their tits.”

  That makes me laugh. “I have to figure out a way to use what I know to bring them down. Will you help me, T?”

  “Why you so worried about those guys now? They’re gone.”

  Tension is in my chest, and I can’t tell my friend the whole truth. “Gavin’s holding something over Lara’s head.”

  “Always the romantic.” He laughs, taking a long sip of dark beer. “I’ll do what I can, but I stayed away from those guys. I worked for Darby, and when he said we were done, I went fishing.”

  “You also married Bea.”

  “Can you blame me?”

  “No.” We both sit in silence a little while. Then I prop my elbow on the bar. “I need to find Landry. He’s not at the NOPD. Any idea where he might have gone?”

  “He never left the city, but I don’t know where he is now.”

  “Could you find out?”

  He shrugs, lips poking out. “I still see Eddie every now and then. He might know something.”

  “Text me if you do. I’m at Roland’s place for now.”

  He slides off the stool, and I follow suit, ready to get back to Lara and the baby. We still need to figure out where we’re going to stay, and I’m sure Roland has to get to the club.

  Terrence stops at the corner and lights up. “Landry’s not going to tell you anything. He’s not that stupid.”

  “Maybe not, but maybe I can convince him it’s in his best interest to cooperate.”

  Specifically, it’s in his best
interest to give me that fucking thumb drive.

  “What exactly are you looking for?”

  Shoving my hands in my pockets I study my friend. I’ve known Terrence as long as anybody in this city, and he’s always been a stand-up guy.

  “They had cameras in every room. I need to get my hands on those recordings.”

  His expression changes halfway through my explanation, as if he understands immediately what the introduction of surveillance means. He was the one who told me about the private dances, after all.

  “I got you. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  We shake hands, and I head north on Orleans Street. Roland’s place is just a few blocks away, but I want to make a slight detour first.

  * * *

  Lara

  Mark texted he’s on his way back from meeting with Terrence, and I’m in Jillian’s closet-room. I’m not interested in staying here any longer than it takes to pack her things and leave.

  “I’ll talk to Bill and see if we can do another concert this—” Roland stops in the doorway, but I don’t look up. “What are you doing?”

  Jillian is in her crib kicking her little feet while she coos at her animal mobile. I’m emptying her drawers into my suitcase.

  “We’re leaving.”

  “Why?” He’s with me in two steps trying to catch my hands. I only push his away.

  “I wouldn’t stay here another day if you paid me.”

  “What the hell? Why are you acting this way?”

  He’s still trying to stop me, so I pivot to face him. “How long have you been spying on me? Telling everything I do to Gavin?”

  Anger burns under my skin, and I know it’s blazing from my eyes. I’ve been holding onto this confrontation since I faced Gavin in Seattle.

  Roland takes a step back. “I haven’t spoken to Gavin in…” He shakes his head, his eyes roaming as if searching for an answer. “Five years? Since he left here.”

  “I’m not listening to lies anymore. From anyone.”

  I’m back to the bureau, pulling open the last drawer. He puts his palm on it and slams it shut. Jillian emits a squeal just before she hiccups and starts to cry. He leaves me and goes to lift her out of the crib, but I follow.