Sherry's Story

Accused

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything to do with the Sin City franchise, blah blah blah.

Author’s Note: If you haven’t done so already, you’ll have to read the re-posted version of Chapter 18, otherwise this chapter will be very confusing...

lll

At the sound of the unexpected voice behind me, I turned around. My first fear was that Richard was still alive. However, his body was in exactly the same position as when I left him.

“Over here, kiddo,” Ben said. His broad silhouette was framed in the open French doors at the back of the study. The slight breeze made his black leather knee-length trench coat billow around him like the wings of a bat. He had Matilda in his hand and when I ran over to him, he holstered it. He held me and I hugged him as tightly as if I were drowning and by holding him, he could save me. But no one could do that; I had taken my life down a path of no return.

The horror of the last 30 minutes hit me and I started bawling. I had taken a life. For the greater part of my life in Sin City, he had been a friend, a confidante, a father figure, and a lover.

Now he was lying at my feet in a pool of his own blood, an expression of hatred etched into his face. His eyes were still open and even from beyond the grave, he silently accused me. It was too much.

My stomach churned and I knew I was going to throw up. I clapped a hand over my mouth and stumbled past Ben to the nearest tree, which was about twenty feet from the French doors. I fell to my knees and emptied my stomach on Richard’s perfectly manicured lawn. Because the parking lot was on the other side of the high limestone wall that enclosed the entire estate, no one saw me.

“Here,” Ben said when he’d caught up to me. He guided me over to a stone bench that was directly under the tree. “Sit here for a bit until you feel better.”

“But we have to get out of here! Now!” I wailed before vomiting onto the grass again.

Ben snapped his fingers as if an idea came to him and he kissed the top of my head. “Kiddo, you may have just saved both our lives. I’ll be back in a bit.” Despite his size, Ben could be light on his feet and he loped quickly back to the blood-spattered scene of my crime.

I don’t know how long I sat there in the dark, waiting for Ben to come back and wondering what he was up to. I felt hot blood slowly dribble from my split chin down my neck and slide between my breasts. Now my dress was soaked with Richard’s blood as well as my own. Shock was starting to set in and I was shivering uncontrollably in the crisp night air but I had nothing to cover myself with. It was getting colder because the wind had kicked up enough to make the fallen leaves on the lawn tumble and dance. Thunder rumbled in the distance and I saw the sky light up for a moment with a lightning bolt. A storm was coming.

One question bounced from one side of my head to the other: what we were going to do? No matter what plan Ben had in mind, there was no way we could get out of this. No way in hell.

I ruined our lives for nothing. Richard said he was going to rape me. In my short life, being raped was almost a common occurrence. My stepfather, all three of the Roarke men and my own husband satisfied their lust in me by force. Because Richard was fat and out of shape and he tended to run out of sexual steam quickly, forced sex with him would have been unpleasant but no hardship.

Because I acted rashly, the best Mob lawyer in the whole fucking state was dead. Richard was a made man and the murder of a made man disgraced his Mob family’s honour. They would not rest until they had taken their revenge for his murder.

Another wave of nausea hit me so suddenly that I didn’t even have time to lean my head over the side of the bench before the deluge hit. I groaned as I tried to wipe the stinking, slimy mess from the front of my dress but my efforts only made things worse. Now I was covered in blood and puke.

Ben came back and he was carrying his coat on his arm. “Sherry, I have to do something to you and you’re not gonna like it, but I don’t have time to explain right now. It’s the only way out for both of us. Do you trust me?”

I nodded my head and swallowed hard, grimacing at the sour taste of puke in my mouth. “What are you going to do?”

“Give you the best alibi I can,” my husband said. “The less you know about what I’ve done in the study, the better. I’m sorry, kiddo…” Ben raised his fist and my world went dark.

lll

“She’s awake, John,” a male voice said.

People hung over me and I wondered who they were. I had no clue where I was or how I got here. My vision was blurry and although a host of questions came to me, I decided to keep my mouth shut until I knew more. My head ached and I made a mental promise that I would make Ben pay for this.

Instead of lying outside on the cold stone bench, I was lying on a loveseat that was directly in front of a fireplace, where a fire snapped and crackled merrily, radiating badly needed warmth to my frozen body.

I was wearing Ben’s trench coat and it was belted tightly around me. Because Ben was so tall, the hem of the knee-length coat brushed against my ankles. My bloody dress was completely hidden in the coat’s ample folds. However, the coat couldn’t hide the stench of sour vomit that radiated from me. The smell undoubtedly made some of the people in the room keep their distance--which was perfectly fine with me.

It took me a while to notice that I was no longer in the study, this was a different room. It smelled pleasantly of aftershave and cigar smoke and I guessed that this was the room where many of the Mob’s renowned all night poker games took place. Paintings covered the walls. Over the fireplace was a particularly vibrant work of art, the canvas was a blurry mixture of blues and gold. I recognized the piece that caught my eye because of the vibrant colours and distinctive style of the artist. The tortured red-haired man who had painted it seventy years before had cut off his ear and then killed himself in despair. The painting I was looking at was more than this mansion and everything in it.

“What happened?” I asked. I blinked owlishly, trying to clear my head. I could hear voices and there seemed to be a lot of people coming in and out of the room.

John Hardigan shrugged. “We found Richard on the floor of his study, lying in a pool of his own blood. Can you tell us anything about that?”

I could feel the blood drain from my face, making me dizzy. If I had been standing, my knees would have buckled beneath me. “Oh God…”

“John, for Chrissake, go easy on her, will you? She doesn’t know about it yet,” a woman said. I turned my head and saw Gertrude Williams sitting beside me. She was wearing a stunning evening dress of black and gold. It took me a moment to recall that she and her husband had been at the party as well. She took my hand. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Sherry, but Richard is dead.”

I closed my eyes. I knew better than anyone else how and why Richard died. Fear makes your mind work slower sometimes. I remembered going to the door to face the consequences of my actions but Ben called me back at the last second. Whatever he had done during the time I was unconscious, he would tell me later. Right now, my main priority was to provide as little information as possible and play dumb.

“He’s dead?” I asked.

John Hardigan’s face came into the field of my still-blurry vision. “I’ve already told you that he is.”

“How?”

“He was stabbed multiple times. Now this is very important, Sherry. I need you to tell me exactly what you remember. Jones and Brown have already given me their statements—that you were in here for quite a while with Richard. Alone.”

I heard the stress John placed on the last word. “Yes, we were.”

“Why?”

“He just wanted to talk to me.” I could feel my eyes prickle. This wasn’t going to work. I was already giving myself away. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I--”

I shifted my position and realized there was something in the hip pockets of the coat. In the left pocket was a long and heavy object and judging by its size and weight, it could only be my Uncle Tom’s police-issued flashlight. And on it was Ben’s fingerprints and Tom’s blood. There was something in the right hand pocket too but I didn’t know what it was.

John Hardigan was looking at me strangely. “Sherry? Are you all right?”

“No! How can I be? I mean, I wake up to find out that Richard is dead…” I couldn’t trust my voice anymore so I shook my head. I decided to deflect the topic of conversation. “How did I get here?”

“Ben said he found you outside. Why were you there?”

I was on surer ground now but I still had to proceed cautiously. “I had too much to drink and I was feeling sick. I ran outside to throw up. I was on the bench when everything went dark…The next thing I remember is waking up here.” Every word of it was the God’s honest truth—from a certain point of view, of course. My chin was hurting again and I fingered it to see if it was still bleeding. Instead, I felt the ends of a coarse thread sticking out from it.

“You cut your chin and I had to put in stitches,” Gertrude said in response to my blank look. “I think I did a pretty good job. You’ll have a scar, though.”

“I will? Will it be bad?” The silliness of her words hit me and I felt like laughing. I was going to spend the rest of my life in prison and I was worrying about a scar?

Hardigan leaner closer and sniffed, his eyes hardening in displeasure at the obvious smell of champagne-induced vomit. “Why were you drinking? You’re not legal age.”

Afraid that he would lean close enough to see how my hands shook, I put it in the right-hand pocket. It was then that I figured out what was hidden there. It was long and thin and the deeply carved handle could only be one thing—the ivory letter opener that I had shoved deep into Richard’s belly.

If John Hardigan was half as good as his reputation, I couldn’t let my guard down for a second. I realized he was still waiting for me to answer his question and I shook my head. He started in on me again and it was all I could do to follow the torrent of questions.

“Well? Answer me. Why were you drinking?”

I stammered and stuttered, desperately trying to make my head clear so I could answer his question. However, before I could even think of a reply, John fired more questions at me, never giving me a chance to recover. It was a standard interrogating procedure, my father once told me. Never give a suspect a chance to think. Get them so confused and unnerved that they’ll blurt out the truth without even realizing what they were doing.

“Did Richard tell you he was meeting someone tonight?”

“No. I mean, I don’t think—”

“Why did you go outside?”

“I told you. I wasn’t feeling well…”

“How long were you out there?”

“I--I don’t remember!” I shouted.

“Did you see anyone enter or leave the house?”

Ben spoke up and he was mad. “How the hell could she see if anyone came in? She went outside to puke her guts out! If you don’t believe me, go out to the tree. You’ll smell it for yourself. When I found her, she was passed out on the bench. Who knows how long she was lying out there for? The house was full of people, have you questioned every one of them? Who’s to say that Richard didn’t have an appointment to meet one of ‘em in his study?”

“But Sherry isn’t old enough to drink,” John said, doggedly returning to his first question. “She’s a minor.”

“Bullshit!” Gert snapped. “If she’s old enough to get married, then she’s old enough to drink. Who cares if she was bombed? It was her party! Furthermore, you weren’t here tonight, John. You didn’t see how drunk she was. I did. And so did everyone else who was here. The girl could hardly stand up!”

Despite the arguments for my innocence he was getting from both Ben and Gert, John Hardigan was like a hound dog that had gotten a whiff of something and wouldn’t give up. “It’s too much of a coincidence that Richard just happened to be killed at the exact moment that Sherry is conveniently passed out on the lawn. Sherry, I want you to tell me the truth. What really happened between you and the victim tonight? I’m going to find out anyway, so you may as well tell me now.”

Before John could proceed, Ben stepped into the argument. “Goddamn it, haven’t you asked Sherry enough fucking questions for one night?”

“Just doing my job, Ben. I have to interview everybody.”

Ben glanced in my direction. “I know and I’m sorry for getting so mad but…look at this from my point of view. I mean, I get here and find Sherry passed out on the lawn. I came in to yell at Rich for leaving her out there and find him lying in his own blood. Now you’re acting like she’s the one who did it? Enough is enough, man. It’s late and Sherry’s been through hell. Can I take her home?”

Gert spoke up. “I would recommend it, John. Sherry will be able to think more clearly after a good night’s sleep. These are our friends. They’re not the type to skip town. You have nothing to lose by letting them leave.” She smiled wryly at me. “And you could use a bath.” She glared at John.

Hardigan scowled and angrily scrawled something on his notepad before he snapped it shut. A young barely-old-enough-to-shave uniformed officer had been standing patiently by John’s side. John turned and finally acknowledged him. “Yes?”

The young man coughed nervously. “Sir, we tried to salvage what we could from what was left in the fireplace but it wasn’t any good. All we have is ashes. From what we could tell, someone poured alcohol on the papers and lit it.”

“How about the safe? What was left in it?”

“A lot of money, some jewelry and private papers. We’re going through it anyway.”

“If money and jewelry were left in the safe, that means that robbery wasn’t a motive. Everything that might have helped us identify the killer was burned in the fire. Damn!” John said. “I was hoping that we’d find something in that safe that might give us a clue…”

“There was a lot of money in envelopes on the desk,” the kid said helpfully.

“I saw them,” John Hardigan replied. “They were wedding gifts for Sherry and Ben. I already talked to a guest who said he heard Richard tell the big guy, Jones, to put the envelopes on his desk. Did you find the weapon?”

“Not yet.”

“You probably won’t, but keep looking. Whoever the killer was, he took it with him. Any news on the whereabouts of the victim’s wife?”

“No, sir. We haven’t located her yet. However, we did find something, er, interesting in the wastebasket.”

There was something in the young officer’s tone that made John Hardigan take notice. “What?”

The rookie brought forward a paper evidence bag and removed my panties. My eyes widened when I saw him bring the panty crotch up to his nose when he inhaled my scent. “These definitely have been worn recently. She was probably a hooker because no respectable lady would be caught dead wearing these.”

A deep flush spread from the crisp collar of the kid’s uniform to his face. I had been a hooker long enough to know what that meant. There had been several fathers who had taken their sons to me to break their man-cherry and introduce them into the pleasures of manhood. I had seen the awkward blushes and shy glances of inexperienced boys before. I glanced down at his pants to confirm my suspicions. Sure enough, he was getting a hard on.

That’s probably as close as he’s ever come to a woman’s pussy since his mother gave birth to him, I thought. I couldn’t resist. “Would you like be alone?”

The kid blushed as red as a beet and shoved my panties back into the evidence bag. Chuckles and snickers from the older male detectives present filled the room. While John turned his head to hide a smile, I caught the eye of the rookie I’d just insulted. His eyes narrowed dangerously and his lips moved as if he was cursing me under his breath.

Ben roared with laughter and slapped John hard on the back. “I sure married a live one, didn’t I, John? Seriously though, if you check between the sofa cushions, I’m sure you’ll find more pairs of ladies’ unmentionables lying around his office. Rich had quite the reputation as one horny son of a bitch. If you don’t believe me, ask Jones and Brown. They’ve driven him to a lot of hotels so he could fuck them without his wife knowing.”

As painful as it was to hear my relationship with Richard put into such crude terms, I couldn’t deny a word of it. He had paid me to fuck him. I was the last in a long line of whores who shared Richard’s bed. Now he was dead. Grief and stress threatened to shatter what was left of my composure. But I knew if I lost it now, all Ben’s efforts to save me would have been for nothing.

John consulted his notes. “That’s how he met you, wasn’t it, Sherry?”

I bent my head in shame. “Yes. He’d paid for me on several occasions.”

“Was he one of your regular customers?”

“Yes.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the kid smirk in triumph but I had other more important things on my mind to pay him any mind.

John asked me several more questions about my relationship with Richard and when he was done, my throat was dry. I asked Gert to get me some water. Instead of taking small sips, I chugged it down with as much gusto as the champagne I had drunk earlier. Unfortunately, my stomach was still too upset and raw to handle even water. Almost as soon as I swallowed it, the water came right back up again. John grimaced and tried to get out of the way, but the vile-smelling water still drenched his trouser leg from knee to ankle.

Ben put his arm around me in a no-nonsense way. “That’s it. I’m takin’ Sherry home. She’s too upset to answer any more questions tonight. She needs to rest and get the hell out of this house. Plus, she could use a good bath.” Ben’s eyes twinkled a bit. “So could you, John. As well as a clean uniform.”

John shut his notepad with a frustrated snap. “All right, Ben. I’ll come by tomorrow to get Sherry’s full statement.”

I could tell he wasn’t pleased at not being able to grill me then and there and as a policeman’s daughter, I knew why. Every cop, from the newest rookie fresh out of the academy to the life-long career man, knew that the first 72 hours were the most important in solving a crime. Evidence can disappear; witnesses can change a story—by either forgetting facts or just plain lying…just as I was doing.

A case that involved such a high profile victim would shake Sin City to its core. The pressure on the police force to solve the case would be unprecedented. Unless I missed my guess, John would be at our doorstep as soon as the sun rose.

“Come over whenever you want. We’re not goin’ anywhere.” Ben said, jutting his chin at John defiantly as the two men stared each other down. After a long moment, Ben turned his attention to Gertrude. “Does Sherry need to see a doctor?”

Nurse Williams dug into her medical bag. She took out a small orange bottle of pills and handed it to Ben. “No. Give her two of these and she’ll sleep through the night. In fact, if it’s all right with you, Ben, I’ll come over with John tomorrow and see how Sherry is doing.”

“Why?” John interrupted. “All she did was pass out and cut her chin.”

Gert leveled a steely gaze at her old friend and former childhood gang member. “I don’t tell you how to investigate your crime scene, so don’t tell me how to diagnose my patient.”

“For Chrissake, Gert, don’t give yourself airs. You’re only a nurse, not a doctor…”

When Gert spoke, her voice rose so loud and irate that everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and listened. “Only a nurse? You listen to me, John Walter Hardigan, and you listen good! This nurse saved the lives of your son and wife when she went into labour two months early! She would have bled to death if it hadn’t been for me and you know it, you ungrateful motherf--”

Experienced detectives caught one another’s eye and grinned. It wasn’t often that Lieutenant Hardigan made a mistake; however, he had made a big one when he referred to Gertrude Williams as ‘only a nurse.’ They were well aware that Nurse Gertrude Williams had more medical knowledge from her years of nursing than any still-wet-behind-the-ears male medical school graduate did. In fact, quite a few of those detectives with young children had often called Gert in the middle of the night for a house call instead of their own family physicians.

The two of them continued to bicker and while this disagreement showed no sign of stopping, everyone took a break from their duties and watched discreetly from the sidelines.

Ben saw this distraction as the perfect opportunity to leave. “Uh, okay. C’mon, kiddo, you’ve had a busy night. I think we should get out of here before this two kill each other.”

Ben and I left and no one stopped us—they were too busy watching the noisy and volatile argument between John and Gert. Under the very noses of all the cops in the house, I was walking out wearing the only pieces of evidence that proved who the murderers of Richard Kershaw and Tom Dekker were.

It just so happened that as we were leaving the library, Richard’s body was being wheeled out to the coroner’s van. He was covered with a bloodstained sheet. Whoever had wrapped him up, hadn’t done a good job. His hand stuck out from underneath the sheet. To my overwrought nerves, it looked like his finger was pointed at me, as if even in death, he was identifying me as his murderer.

I fell to my knees and began to sob. I didn’t remember being picked up. I didn’t remember being put into a car. As soon as he’d stopped the car in front of our building, I was out of it like a shot, making a beeline for our apartment and the bathroom.

My fingers turned into thumbs and no matter what I did, I could not loosen the belt that held the coat together. I started to pant and sob in my frustration. I wasn’t able to see what I was doing as tears streamed from my eyes. “I can’t get it off!” I wailed. I was getting hysterical now and my frantic attempts to undo the knot only made it tighter.

“Easy, babe, let me.” Ben tried his best but the knot was too tight. He took a switchblade from his back pocket and cut the belt. He quickly slid the coat from my body and before it hit the floor, I was already in the shower. As I sat in the tub, Ben used the knife to cut my dress off my body until it lay in pieces around me.

“Here, let me take these out of your way,” Ben said. “You want me to leave you alone?”

I nodded, although I wasn’t aware that I had done so.

I sat there, unmoving, hot water cascading down on my body. With the brush, I scrubbed my skin until it was red and raw but no matter how hard I scrubbed, I felt like I would never be clean again. When I was too weak to lift my arms anymore, I drew my knees up, wrapping my arms around them. I started crying and rocking back and forth.

I felt a waft of cool air caress my body when Ben opened the curtain. He didn’t say a word; instead, he wrapped a towel around me, lifted me of the tub, and made me sit on the edge of it while he dried me off. Ben vigorously rubbed my frozen, wet body with a thick, fluffy towel until not a drop of water was left. I was warming up and the chill from the trauma and shock was wearing off.

He worked the brush through my wet hair and brushed it until it was dry and gleaming.

“That’s my girl,” Ben said fondly as he stroked my face. “Stay here and I’ll find something for you to wear. I know exactly what you need but it’ll take me a bit to dig it out of the closet.”

Ten minutes later, he retuned with a hideously ugly, bright red plaid flannel shirt. It was the ugliest piece of clothing I’d ever seen. Ben grinned when he saw my reaction. “Every year during hunting season, the Senator would take a gang of guys to his lodge. Most of the time, we just boozed up and fished but when we did hunt, I made damn sure I wore this so no moron would mistake me for a damn moose. It’s ugly as hell but it’s warm.”

He eased my arms into the sleeves and buttoned it up. He picked me up in his arms and carried me to the bed, pausing for a moment to turn down the covers and I crawled into its inviting snugness and warmth. When I was settled in comfortably, he tucked the blankets tightly under my chin and handed me a glass of water so I could swallow the pills Gert had prescribed.

“Sherry, I want you to tell me what happened.”

I didn’t want to answer. I only wanted to curl under the covers and disappear. However, my husband had tampered with a crime scene, obliterating every scrap of evidence of my blatant and undeniable guilt. I owed him the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

“I didn’t want to, but he made me! He said that unless I gave him sex whenever he wanted, he was going to give John the flashlight and tell him where he could find Uncle Tom. Afterward, Don Battaglio came in to talk business and I was told to leave. But I was nosy and I listened at the door to what they were saying. Richard was going to give the flashlight to John Hardigan--tomorrow! Richard said he’d make sure you were executed. After you were dead, he was going to marry me and force me to bear his children. I told him that I’d get an illegal abortion if I got pregnant.”

Ben’s face went white. “I know how much you’ve always wanted children. No matter how much you hated the father, you couldn’t get rid of anyone’s baby, right?”

“Right, but Richard didn’t know that.” The words came pouring out and I couldn’t stop them. “He got mad and was going to ass rape me on his desk to teach me a lesson! It hurt so bad when you…” I stopped when I saw the haunted look that came on Ben’s face. I decided not to go there. “I couldn’t go through that again. I knew I had to stop him any way I could. I saw the letter opener and took it. I didn’t mean to kill him, I swear!”

Ben sat on the edge of the bed but didn’t say anything for quite a while. When he did, his voice was low and I heard his bitterness. “You stabbed him four times, Sherry. Once would’ve been enough to get away if that’s what you really wanted. Admit it, you wanted to kill him. You did it because you didn’t want him to fuck you in the ass; you didn’t kill him because he said he’d go to the police and tell them that I killed Tom Dekker.”

“Ben…”

“Let me finish!” he snapped. “Sorry, but like I told John, it’s been a helluva night. If I hadn’t done what I did, you’d be in a jail cell right now. I love you, Sherry. I always will.”

“Is that why you stopped me from going to the door?”

Ben sighed and scowled. “Yeah. I didn’t wanna see you make a mistake that could take you away from me forever. You were probably thinking you were doing the noble thing by going to Jones and Brown but...I had to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”

There were so many things I wanted to say—but one thought, one desire came bubbling to the surface of my conscious and would not go away. I put my hand on Ben’s thigh and stroked him. “Fuck me. Please?”

“What?”

“Tonight, I was taken without consent, without love, Ben. Richard used my body for his own pleasure. He dangled your life in front of me like a carrot on a stick so I would do his bidding. Now I need to know what it’s like to be taken with consent, with love.”

Ben took my hand away from his leg. “Usually, you don’t have to ask me twice to be with you but just this once, I’m gonna have to say no.”

My lower lip trembled but I couldn’t stop it. Ben was rejecting me! I guess I couldn’t blame him. If he did fuck me, he’d only be having Richard’s sloppy seconds. That would be a blow to any man’s pride.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, Sherry. I’m saying ‘no’ because you’ve been with that bastard. What you need now is rest, not a fuck. John’s coming over tomorrow and we have to get our stories straight.” He smiled wanly and chucked me under the chin. “Once he’s gone, then we’ll see, okay?”

If Ben could laugh despite everything that had happened tonight, then so could I. He was right—I had to be strong otherwise I’d say or do something that would reveal my guilt. However, before I could sleep, I had to know something. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were going to do? Why did you have to deck me?”

My husband smiled. “Because you’ll never make a good liar, Sherry. It takes years of practice to get it right and with both our lives at stake, the less you knew, the better. When you threw up by the tree, it gave me an idea and I ran with it. I gotta tell you, though, your puking on John made my day! That probably saved your neck.”

“Why did you burn the papers in the safe?”

“To make it look like someone killed Richard because of what was in the safe. And lemme tell you, he had stuff on just about everybody who is anybody in this town. While you were out cold, I emptied the safe in the fireplace, poured booze on it and lit it up. I’m sure many a family would thank me if they knew.”

“’The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton’,” I murmured. Ben looked at me with his head tilted in confusion. It was obvious he had no idea what I was talking about. “It’s the name of one of my favourite Sherlock Holmes stories,” I explained. “Holmes and Watson burgle the house of the most infamous blackmailer in London to save a lady’s reputation. Holmes opens the safe and burns all the papers that were in it, in the fireplace. Just like you did.” I looked at Ben with renewed respect. “How did you get it open?”

Ben grinned boyishly and it took years from his face. “Richard always thought that I was all brawn and no brains and he never bothered to hide the combination from me. I thought it might come in handy some day, so I memorized it. But I didn’t burn everything.” He winked at me. “The Roarke family had an entire box dedicated just to them. I removed a few papers from it.”

“Why?”

“I’ve had enough of working for the Mob, Sherry. Some of the things I’ve done for the Don makes the Senator look like the fucking Pope.” His smile vanished and until this moment, I hadn’t realized how much working with Richard bothered him.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Ben shrugged his wide shoulders. “You liked the stuff I brought home and the money was good.”

Tears came to my eyes when I remembered all the times Ben’s clothes were stained with blood, although none of it was his own. I knew my husband well enough to know that he did not like hurting people, especially women. Despite his intimidating size, my Ben had a tender heart and a gentle soul. The effect of hearing people cry out in pain must have affected him deeply but he had endured and suffered the sting of his conscience in silence.

He said nothing because he saw how much I liked the perks that came with working for the Mob—jewelry, furs, money.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, leaning against his arm.

“Don’t cry, Sherry,” Ben said, his voice hoarse with emotion. I looked up and saw that he had tears in his eyes as well. “It’s all behind us now. All of it.”

“Do you think Roarke’ll take you back?”

“Dunno. But with these papers in my hand, he might.”

“Did you see anything?”

Ben shrugged. “Not much. I was coming from the west side of the house and through the windows, I saw you face down on the desk and Rich was behind you. Then you fell to the floor and he was on top of you. I took out my gun, intending to shoot the bastard. I ran as fast as I could but you’d already taken care of him. I stopped you before you were going to open the study door.”

“What did you do after you knocked me out?”

“After burning the files, I looked around the study and saw the ivory thing that you stabbed Richard with and the flashlight. I put both in my coat, went outside, put the coat on you and called Jones and Brown in. They secured the house, called the cops, and told everyone to go home. Since Gert’s almost a doctor, they got her to look at the body. I crossed my fingers and hoped to hell everything would be all right. So far, so good. But we’re not out of the woods yet, kiddo. We still have to get through tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t you come in the front door?”

Ben frowned. “From my very first day of work, Rich made it clear that I couldn’t come in the front entrance. According to him, servants and other employees had to come in the house by another way. There are a lot of back and side entrances I could have used instead but something told me to go in by the study door.”

Richard’s snobbery gave Ben the perfect alibi in case the cops asked him why he didn’t come in the front entrance—he wasn’t allowed to.

There was one more thing I had to know. “I heard the Don and Richard say that they sent you off on a collection job that didn’t exist and that you’d be gone for a while.”

“When the guy I was supposed to meet didn’t show, I knew something was off, ya know? I can’t explain it, but something inside me told me to go to the mansion as soon as possible, because you needed me. I think I broke every goddamn speed limit but I’m glad I did.”

“Me too.” The pills were starting to take effect and I yawned so widely that my eyes watered. I couldn’t fight it any longer, I had to sleep. Ben left me alone and as I drifted off, my thoughts returned again and again to Richard.

Our relationship had not entirely been based on sex. He had comforted me when I needed someone to talk to. He had restored my faith in men, by showing me that not all of them were brutes. There were many times when Richard and I would talk until dawn and he never laid a hand on me unless I wanted him to. I could not forget that he had dropped everything to be with me at the hospital when I overdosed.

Before the lustful evil perverted his mind and possessed his body during the last month of his life, he had been good to me. He would always have a special place in my heart and I would miss the good side of him terribly.

However, it would be nearly twenty-four hours before I learned how evil Richard had become.