The Raping of Ava DeSantis Page 18
“Okay, here you are, sir. Please go ahead.”
Wesley was confused, but played along. “Is Julie up there?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“Thanks.”
Wesley left the concierge desk and calmly walked to the elevators. As soon as the doors shut, his blue eyes turned stone grey.
When he arrived on the fifty-third floor, he charged down the hallway to penthouse C.
The door was wide open. He carefully walked inside and saw Ava wearing a long yellow nightgown, sitting with her legs up in a chair, sipping iced tea out of a champagne glass.
“I was beginning to think you forgot where I lived.”
“You insane bitch.”
“Troubled? Yes. Insane? No.”
Wesley pulled the gun out of his pocket and pointed it directly at her. “Why did you kill my wife? Where is my son?”
“You’re beginning to sound like a reporter, Wesley. Let’s see, in response to your first question, one would consider her guilty by association—”
“You bitch!”
CLICK. A mysterious person in the guest bedroom locked the door.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Julie! Just stay in there!”
“And in response to your second question—”
“Where the fuck is my baby?”
“If you pull that trigger you will never find out. Will you?”
Wesley screamed a primal yell…slammed the gun to the floor and charged at Ava.
Ava leapt up from the chair and ran upstairs.
Wesley followed her, furiously grabbing at her ankles, ripping her long nightgown along the way. At the top of the stairs, Ava broke free and ran to the terrace outside. She kept running and running until there was nowhere else to go. Wesley finally tackled her to the concrete floor. On the way down, he punched her hard once in the face.
Ava smiled, casually wiping the blood from her mouth. “You want to know where your baby is?”
“Yes!”
The air was thick with animal energy.
“Then next time, check the bathtub.”
“You. Fucking. Bitch!!!”
Wesley put his hands around her throat, pounding the back of her head against the hard concrete terrace BAM! BAM! BAM!
She grinned back insanely, unmoved by the pain.
He strangled her harder, thrusting his body in a sexual motion.
He pushed his thumbs deeper and deeper against her throat with all of his might.
Ava peacefully accepted her fate as life began to escape her…Her large woodsy-green eyes staring right into his soul.
“Just—like—old—times,” she said in between choking breaths.
In an instant, Wesley’s reality changed…
His mind flashed back to the night of the rape. Her hallow eyes peering right through him. Her face broken and bleeding.
Wesley was paralyzed. He immediately released his grip and rolled off her body…he sat upright, desperately trying to catch his breath.
Ava crawled passed the garden toward the end of her balcony…hacking and coughing the entire way. She extended her arm and pulled herself up by the railing.
Wesley was immobilized, wailing for his dead wife and baby. Sobs of guilt overtook his body, causing him to fold over with unimaginable pain.
It was his fault. Everything. He had destroyed every single person he loved.
Ava climbed up the cast iron railing…flowing in the wind like a yellow angel…preparing to jump to the end of her days.
“Good-bye, Wesley.”
He peeked his head up, seeing she was about to jump.
“Wait! Ava, don’t!”
Her long blonde hair danced in the wind like the cover of a romance novel.
“You will always be my first love, Wesley.”
“Ava! No—”
“Maybe next time, we’ll get it right.”
“NOOOOOOO!!!”
Despite his plea, Ava leapt backwards—like a phoenix spreading her wings—and flew down into the night.
The wind growled in her absence…
As Wesley melted to the floor, still smelling her perfume beside him.
CRASH!!!
Someone hit a vase as they rushed in downstairs. Within seconds, three police officers were on the terrace surrounding Wesley.
“Hold it right there!”
Wesley put his hands high in the air.
Detective Zhao walked in from behind the policemen. “Where’s Ava?”
Wesley bowed his head, overwhelmed with tremendous guilt.
Zhao rushed over to the railing. He looked down fifty stories and saw the yellow nightgown face down on the street below, surrounded by dozens of pedestrians murmuring at the horrific scene.
“Jesus Christ. Bring him over here.”
The police officer handcuffed Wesley, then walked him to Zhao by the railing.
“What happened, Wesley?”
Silence.
“What did you do to her?”
Silence.
“I’ve got all night to ask questions, Wesley.”
Wesley finally imploded…“I pushed her,” he blurted. “I pushed her over the edge!”
Zhao was surprised. “Are you sure you want to say that or do you want me to wait for your lawyer?”
Wesley looked down in shame. “She’s dead—they’re all dead—because of me.” His face grimaced as tears rolled down his face.
“I already know all about it, Wesley. I just came from your home,” he said in a sympathetic tone. “You can fill me in on the details later.”
Despite his tremendous pain, Wesley instantly felt a lightness enter his body. Telling the truth after all of these years somehow lifted his heavy soul.
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a—”
“Wait. There’s something else.”
“Go ahead.”
“Go into my front pocket. The right one.”
“Why?”
“It’s a key. To the top drawer of my office desk.”
Zhao raised his brow. “And what will I find in there, Wesley?”
“Something that gets rid of the ‘he said, she said shit.’”
Zhao looked at him with heartfelt pity. “All right, let’s go.”
***
Police vehicles, ambulances, and gawkers flooded the street.
Zhao gently placed Wesley in the back seat of a squad car when a young rookie cop rapidly approached him.
“Detective Zhao, do you need me to get crime scene up there? There’s only two crews tonight so it may take a while.”
“No, don’t bother. We’ve got a confession.”
“But, sir, regulation—”
“Like I said, this case is closed, Ramsey. Go find another problem to solve.”
***
Lucky the doorman stood next to a forensics worker. The man held the zipper of a black body bag on a stretcher. “Are you sure there’s no one else that can do this?”
Lucky was nervous. “Yes, sir. She’s got no family. No friends neither. Just me. I’m listed as her emergency contact for the building.”
“Are you ready? It’s not a pretty sight.”
“Yes, sir. I am”
The forensics worker unzipped the body bag to reveal a woman’s mangled face…Her black bobbed hair and petite features showed through dislocated flesh and bone.
“Yes, sir. That’s Ava DeSantis.”
But in reality, it was Julie the waitress!
“Are you sure?”
Lucky nodded his head with sorrow. “Yes, sir. That’s definitely Miss Ava.”
“Okay, we’ll need you to come down tomorrow morning and fill out next of kin paperwork.”
“Yes, sir. Whatever I need to do.”
The forensics worker re-zipped the bag.
After recovering from the ordeal, Lucky looked at the worker once again, tilting his head. “Call me crazy, but didn’t you used to wo
rk at the deli in Winn-Dixie?”
***
Detective Zhao entered his Crown Victoria alone. He shut the door, drowning out the sounds of police chatter behind him. He looked at himself in the rear view mirror. His spikey black hair, small squinty eyes, and dimples smiled ear to ear.
“You still got it, Zhao…you still got it.”
***
Lucky the doorman walked along an empty street, away from the fading crime scene behind him. The police cars, ambulances all preparing to leave in the background…
He passed a shiny black conversion van on his right…
He continued walking, up to a black stretch limo parked directly in front of it.
A mysterious man inside the limo rolled down the window.
“It’s all done, sir,” said Lucky to the mysterious man.
“Good. Did you have any problems?”
“No, sir. We’re all set.”
The man’s arm extended out of the window, handing Lucky two sets of keys. “The red keys are for the van.”
Lucky gazed at the van, smiling.
“And the other ones are to the penthouse. Enjoy.”
Lucky showcased his wide gap-toothed smile. “Thank you, Mr. Scarborough.”
Thomas leaned out the window. “No, Lucky, thank you.” His face as refreshed as a newborn man. “Now your Auntie already has keys to the house, so she’s all set there. Just be sure to tell her I’m gonna miss those dumplings!”
“I will, sir.”
“And tell her thanks for everything. Especially for the introduction.”
Ava beamed in the seat across from Thomas, still wearing her yellow nightgown and bungee cord harness…cuddling a wrapped newborn baby in her arms.
Thomas looked at Ava with tremendous love in his eyes.
Lucky stuck his head into the limo. “Good-bye, Miss Ava.”
“Call me Julie! I need to get used to it,” she said with a smile.
“And take good care of that handsome new son of yours.”
“I sure as hell will, Lucky. Thank you.”
Lucky pulled back from the limo and waved good-bye.
Thomas lifted his chest and addressed the limo driver: “Gentlemen!”
The black driver panel came down to reveal the white and black biker dudes sitting up front. “Yes, Mr. Scarborough?” they said in unison.
“Your furniture deliverin’ days are over, boys. Rio de Janeiro, here we come!”
They all erupted with laughter, enjoying the celebration.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Thomas moved over next to Ava. “I had these made yesterday.” He pulled a set of documents out of his interior coat pocket: a social security card, driver’s license, and passport—all with Ava’s beautiful picture and the name Julie Scarborough.
He then handed her a red Cartier ring box and a marriage certificate to go with it.
“We got married yesterday too.”
“We did?”
“And we’ll do it for real on our new private beach.”
Ava jokingly wrinkled her brow. “Only if you let me wear yellow.”
Thomas scoffed. “So demanding already…” He chuckled then gave her a long, deep cinematic wedding kiss that lit up both of their souls.
Afterwards, Ava looked down at the baby, sharing her moment of pure joy.
Barely able to open his eyes, Baby T.J. managed to look back at his mother like she was the only thing that would ever matter in this world.
CHAPTER 31
The Ides Of March
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
1:14 PM
A beautiful woman with long, flowing, dark brown hair stood on the doorstep of Scarborough Mansion. She was wearing a stylish yellow leather coat and carrying a single suitcase.
Eloise opened the door wearing her traditional maid uniform. “Ava?”
“Miss Eloise?”
“Nice to meet you, honey. Please come in.”
Ava stepped inside, impressed by the colossal white and gray marbled foyer.
“Thank you for agreeing to come here. Did you have a good flight?”
“Yes, I did. Thank you. I’ve never flown first class before, it was wonderful.”
Eloise smiled. “That’s my Thomas. Everything has to be first class.”
“How sweet.”
“He’s waiting for you in the library.”
Eloise walked Ava down a short hallway lined with antique Civil War era paintings.
“Will Miriam be joining us?”
“No, she’s visiting her sister in Maryland.” Eloise stopped and leaned into a whisper. “I think it’s best if we all keep this little meeting to ourselves.”
“Of course.”
Eloise winked back. “Good.”
In the library, Thomas sat in his favorite high-back chair reading the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.
“Excuse me, Thomas. Miss Ava DeSantis is here to see you.”
His distinguished brown eyes rose up from the paper…
Ava extended her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Judge Scarborough.”
Thomas dramatically threw the newspaper to the floor. He rose from the chair, grabbed Ava’s soft hand and kissed the top of her wrist…
“No, Miss DeSantis. The pleasure is all mine.”
EPILOGUE
And that is the story of how my beautiful daughter met her wonderful husband…
And how a runaway girl from Ohio, suffering each day with terminal brain cancer, loved my daughter enough to give up her last two months on earth so she could start a brand new life.
Now that my friend, is true bravery.
And years later, after Thomas’s death at the age of ninety-three, my handsome grandson took over the family business, becoming the largest manufacturer of Brazilian wood furniture in the world…
Taking a Portuguese beauty queen as his wife, and raising three amazing boys of his own…
And for the little girl I left behind so young, my beautiful, baby girl, Ava.
Who still in her old age spends countless hours in the garden playing with her grandchildren, loving and nurturing them just as much as those beautiful yellow roses…
For I have never left you, I have been here all along. Watching you and loving you, feeling your joy and pain through every moment. And like the phoenix that burned before flying away from the ashes of hell, I watched it all, and never once left your side.
Always here, Ava.
Eternally grateful and forever proud to call you…
My daughter.
THE END
AUTHOR MESSAGE
After spending years as a screenwriter in Hollywood, I made the life-changing decision to move into the literary world so I could tell my stories directly to you—the audience—without interference from directors, producers or studio executives. And I can tell you from this first experience of writing a novel that I am here to stay.
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