Erica Spindler - Last Known Victim

“Riley? Mr. Incompetent? I don’t think so. He began to suspect, somehow. Although frankly, I can’t imagine how. And then he involved himself with Yvette. My muse. Mine.”

“He was your brother. You killed your own brother.”

June looked at her then, her expression terrible. Grotesque. “He wasn’t my brother. He was my son.”

The words caught her so by surprise, they took her breath. “Your son? How-”

“My parents sent me away to ‘boarding school.’ That’s how they did it back then. An abortion was, of course, out of the question. A good Catholic would never resort to such a thing.

“Besides, Mama wanted another child. So she pretended to be pregnant. They faked the whole thing. No one suspected. No one ever suspects people who live in Garden District mansions to be anything but upright, law-abiding citizens.”

A lesson, it appeared, she had made good use of.

“I was fifteen when he was born. I was never allowed to speak of what happened, never allowed to refer to him as anything but my brother.”

“Did Riley-”

“Know?” She shook her head. “I gave him everything, devoted my life to him. And he did this to me.”

Patti stared at her friend, shocked by the skewed perspective. She’d killed him, but he did her wrong?

“And his father,” Patti asked. “What of him?”

“You mean our father.”

Patti stared at her, feeling sick, stunned.

“That’s right. Riley and I had the same father. He raped me. More than once, of course.”

Her dislike of men. The distrust of them that had emerged every so often.

“Mama figured it out, but looked the other way. After all, she got what she wanted. Relief from her conjugal duties and a son. ”

If only she had known, maybe she would have been able to help, to get her help. “I’m so…sorry, June. You could have told…Someone would have listened, would have believed you.”

She laughed, the sound harsh. “In your world, maybe. Not in mine.”

Patti struggled to sit upright, nearly passing out from the pain. “You need help,” she managed. “I can make certain you get it.”

“No, I needed help at fourteen. Now I’m fine. I’m in control. Me. I’ve got all the power now.”

“Killing people gives you power?”

“The ones who betray me deserve it. You betrayed me, Patti. You sided with her.”

“What about Shauna and Stacy?”

Her expression went momentarily blank. Then she shook her head. “It was so easy. I called Shauna, told her a collector wanted to meet us at the gallery. That I was just around the corner and would pick her up. Same with Stacy.”

She smiled as if immensely pleased with herself. “You’ll like this one. I told her you were having a breakdown. That you’d asked for her, but only her. I knew she wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone-to protect you. Brilliant, don’t you think?”

“Risky, in my opinion. What if she’d told her captain? Or called Spencer?”

“But she didn’t. Here’s the secret. I understand people, their behavior. I can anticipate how they’ll react.”

“You’re so smart, are you?”

Her self-satisfaction said it all. “You know what your problem is, Patti?”

“Right now? I’d say it’s you.”

“You think too small. I can be anyone or anything I want to be. Old or young. Rich or a bum living in a box. Woman or a man sending love notes to a stripper.”

“And how’s that? You put on a wig? Some men’s clothes?”

“Again, thinking too small. You have to let go and just become it.”

What Dr. Lucia had said about severe childhood trauma rang in her head. How it could fracture a psyche, cause an individual to create alternate personalities.

But this wasn’t DID in the sense of alternate personalities wresting control from the “host,” Patti realized. June made the conscious choice to become someone else.

“The human mind is capable of creating anything that can be imagined.”

“Why, June? Why the girls? Why take their hands?”

“The girls were weak. They didn’t deserve my love. Each time they proved that. But at first…they’re so full of life and hope, so filled with tomorrows.”

June’s father had robbed her of her childhood. Her tomorrows.

Her expression softened. “My muses. They inspire me. Take me to new heights. Make me believe in love and happily-ever-after.”

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Yvette ease open one of the cabinets. Searching, she supposed, for something to use against the woman.

Good girl.

Patti worked to keep June talking, fully focused on her. “Then they betray you.”

Her expression hardened again. “Yes, they betray me. I see they’re weak. And foul.”

“The way you were weak?” she said softly. “When your father abused you?”

Her face went momentarily slack with surprise, then a dull flush crept up her cheeks. “No,” she snapped. “I loved them. They betrayed me.”

“What about Sammy?”

“A horrible mistake. A tragedy. He came to check on the house, to make certain looters hadn’t broken in. Caught me driving off with my sweet Jessica. He followed.

“You can’t imagine how upset I was. I drove on, hoping he’d give up, realize I was fine. But no, not Sammy. He signaled me to pull over. Get this.” She leaned slightly forward, as if still amazed. “To tell me my trunk wasn’t completely latched. ”

“You pulled into Audubon Place. No one was around.”

“Yes. It was getting late. Everyone had evacuated. I got out of my car. I hid my Club…that anti-theft thing, behind my back. And I hit him with it.”

Patti listened in horror, imagining Sammy, his last thought before he went down.

“I had to do it, had to shoot him. I didn’t want to, I really didn’t. I loved Sammy.”

Patti wanted to scream “Liar!” That she couldn’t have loved Sammy. If she had, she wouldn’t have killed him.

But confronting a crazy person only made them crazier, and she and Yvette were in enough trouble already.

“What about Tonya?” Yvette asked, voice sounding stronger than before. Patti saw the cabinet was closed and she was holding her hands oddly.

June looked at her. “Tonya wasn’t your friend. She tried to blackmail me. She didn’t care about you, just wanted money. Stupid whore.”

“So you killed her. Hacked off her hand.”

“Yes. She approached me at the Hustle. I went there after Shauna’s opening. I was angry at you for flirting with Ruston. For going off with Riley.”

Patti shifted, wincing at the pain in her back. “You used your left hand to take hers. To confuse us.”

She looked surprised. “Not at all. Tonya didn’t deserve my kindness, my loving attention and care. That’s only for my sweet girls. I took her hand because I could. And I thought maybe I could use it. As usual, I was right.”

Patti fought to keep her fear and revulsion from showing. “You were the dark-haired woman the neighbor saw Tonya leave with?”

“Yes. One of many roles.”

She smiled and turned back to Yvette. “And I killed Marcus because he hurt you. It was for you, my sweet Yvette. All for you.”

“I didn’t know,” Yvette whispered, voice trembling. Her eyes welled with tears. “I thought you were like the others. All the ones who hurt me.”

Patti watched, heart thundering. She didn’t have a clue what Yvette had planned, she just prayed it worked because they were running out of time.

“We’re alike,” Yvette whispered. “You and I. I didn’t know. We belong together. We’ve been hurt by those who were supposed to love and protect us.”