Page 24 of Love Her Ruin
I wait.
His silence fills the spaces between his ragged breaths.
"Evelyn," I repeat, reaching for his sorry excuse for a foot to give it a twist. "Tell me right now."
He hisses through his clenched teeth and tries to shrink away. When the shadows continue to hold, he shakes his head, a small, defeated motion. "She was going to leave me."
"Divorce. Yes, I know. Why did that scare you?"
"Because she knew things." His voice is a rasp, barely audible. "Things that would ruin me."
"What things?"
He shakes his head. "You know what things. You've been digging."
"I have. But I want to hear it from you. Every woman. Every crime. Start with Evelyn."
He swallows, his throat clicking. "She gave me no choice."
"She filed for divorce.That'sa choice. Murder is punishment."
"She knew about Judge Callahan and my dealings with him. She knew I’d had affairs and had heard other accusations from other women. She had notes. Dates. Names." His voice cracks. "I couldn't let her talk once she left me."
"So you staged her murder and made it look like Red Hands."
He nods.
"You failed."
His eyes flash when he looks up at me. "It looked fucking real to me."
"But not real to me. The handprint was too big. The nail polish was too thin. The cuts were all wrong. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? After I spent months staring at crime scene pictures of the real thing?"
His jaw is tight, his teeth grinding. “If you know so much about Red Hands, then why didn’t you catch him a long fucking time ago?”
I hike up an eyebrow. “So this is allmyfault, then?”
At that, he goes quiet.
"The medical examiner said the cuts on her body didn’t kill her, so what did? How did you kill her?" I already know, of course, but I need to hear him say it.
A long pause. Then, quietly: "I strangled her in our bedroom. She was packing a suitcase. I came up behind her with a belt."
"And then?"
"I drove her to that gas station and…arranged her. I painted her nails. Made the cuts. Set the scene." His voice drops to a whisper. "It took fucking hours. I kept thinking someone would find me, but no one did."
I let the silence stretch, let him marinate in the confession.
Then I shift, leaning closer. "Now tell me about the rapes."
When he speaks again, his voice is hollow. "I do it because I can."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer there is." He narrows his eyes, and there's something naked in them now. Something ugly. "I do it because I want to. Because it's power. Because when I take a woman who doesn't want to be taken, I feel like a god."
My whole body recoils at his words. "A god."
