- Apr 13, 2004
- 469
- 0
No one really knew how it happened!
Trying to keep it out of the press only fueled them on to see what was wrong.
She woke up to the sight of police cops standing over her and a bedroom full of blood.
Helaine Alexian DuBois found herself dressed in a very revealing white pegnior drenched in pure blood.
She was of course a bit disoriented and found herself sprawled out on the bed and the body of her Multi-Million dollar husband, Richard DuBois dead on the floor with a gruesome gash on his throat from ear to ear. He was totally drenched in blood, lying near the armoire and very naked.
Helaine began to scream hysterically when she realized what she was seeing.
The cops immediately roughly dragged her away from the body where, like a tigress she leapt from the bed and was now trying to cradle his head.
The cops had a real doosie on their hands. An anonymous tip, a room full of blood and the body of a very dead multi-millionaire publishing magnate, and his widow who was now a filthy rich widow with and the only suspect in the same room with the victim and no memory.
Helaine sat there being restrained by the cops and confused as all get out. Her husband dead? And her drenched with blood, and not just any blood, but his blood?
'Oh God, what is going on' she asked herself. Fear seemed to roll in waves around her. Her mind was fastly going numb and she could not concentrate on the questioning of the Detective in front of her.
"I DIDN'T KILL MY HUSBAND!!" She suddenly shouted. "I loved him too much...too much...too much..." she said, the tears falling down her face.
The cops glanced at each other. This would be a long night.
*~Five weeks later*~
Detective Basil Harris sat at his desk staring into space. It seemed that the weight of the world...ok, just the weight of the department was on him to find some sort of evidence to convict the Widow DuBois of killing her husband. He sighed and took a drink of the cold coffee on his desk.
"**** it!" he said out loud, slapping the desk and walking toward the window. It had now been a month and a week and the DuBois murder was still not solved. In fact DuBois's widow, the considered killer, was scott-free because no evidence in the shape of hair, fingerprints, or anything were linked to her. It was like she was just there.
Something nagged at his mind. He yawned and rubbed the back of his stiff neck.
Looking back at all the paperwork on his desk for the DuBois case and the faxes from the Mayor and D.A. only reminded him of this large amount of stress.
"Got **** it! This is some ****!" He said violently again.
"Now darling is that the way to greet an old girlfriend." A velvety deep and melodic voice whispered in the quietness.
Raymond glanced up into the face of the last woman he thought he'd ever see.
"Eartha?" He asked, a bit surprised. "Eartha Jacklynne Devereaux? Lord what are you doing here?" He asked taking in the appearance of the woman he'd almost married once.
Eartha Jacklynn Devereaux was the kind of woman that a man would never forget. This woman stood at 5'11, every inch creole woman, but with a rich fudge color complexion and hazel eyes. This Amazon was indeed built like an Amazon and had the power of one. Her brown velvet voice was husky and deep in such a pure and smooth way. It wasn't mannish, but rather deep for a female. Eartha was a black diva in every sense of the word! She had risen from obscurity in the French Quarter of New Orleans to wealth; riding and trading in on her beauty and her gorgeous and exotic voice.
Eartha was in fine possession of a dark and resounding voice like midnight blue satin. Hers was a voice that could sound like a silken thread or a resounding organ. She was able to sing any form of music she wanted. From Opera to Jazz, and R n B to Soul. You name it and she'd mastered it. She had risen to top the music charts and take the music world by storm! This woman knew no boundaries.
But besides just being talented and ambitious, those who knew Eartha personally knew she had an affinity for being a gorgeous Jezebel, and that was dear Eartha's stage name. It fit to perfection.
Raymond took in her appearance. In over ten years, Eartha hadn't even changed! It was as though she and time had struck a bargain and she had remained untouched, growing sexier and tighter with each passing year.
"Raymond are you going to stand there and drool over me? I'm the same Eartha you walked out on ten years ago." She said smoothly in that whisky dark voice; her face lit up with amusement.
Raymond caught himself and sad down. "Well we know why I walked out...ten years ago as you said." He replied calmly, of which he didn't feel.
Eartha gave a throaty chuckle and took the seat opposite him.
"Baby it really is good to see you after all of these years." She said sweetly. "God knows I've missed you and of course you look even better than before." He stared at her striving to gauge what type of game she was playing.
"I'm just on a brief break from touring and I decided to come back to my roots before heading to
Trying to keep it out of the press only fueled them on to see what was wrong.
She woke up to the sight of police cops standing over her and a bedroom full of blood.
Helaine Alexian DuBois found herself dressed in a very revealing white pegnior drenched in pure blood.
She was of course a bit disoriented and found herself sprawled out on the bed and the body of her Multi-Million dollar husband, Richard DuBois dead on the floor with a gruesome gash on his throat from ear to ear. He was totally drenched in blood, lying near the armoire and very naked.
Helaine began to scream hysterically when she realized what she was seeing.
The cops immediately roughly dragged her away from the body where, like a tigress she leapt from the bed and was now trying to cradle his head.
The cops had a real doosie on their hands. An anonymous tip, a room full of blood and the body of a very dead multi-millionaire publishing magnate, and his widow who was now a filthy rich widow with and the only suspect in the same room with the victim and no memory.
Helaine sat there being restrained by the cops and confused as all get out. Her husband dead? And her drenched with blood, and not just any blood, but his blood?
'Oh God, what is going on' she asked herself. Fear seemed to roll in waves around her. Her mind was fastly going numb and she could not concentrate on the questioning of the Detective in front of her.
"I DIDN'T KILL MY HUSBAND!!" She suddenly shouted. "I loved him too much...too much...too much..." she said, the tears falling down her face.
The cops glanced at each other. This would be a long night.
*~Five weeks later*~
Detective Basil Harris sat at his desk staring into space. It seemed that the weight of the world...ok, just the weight of the department was on him to find some sort of evidence to convict the Widow DuBois of killing her husband. He sighed and took a drink of the cold coffee on his desk.
"**** it!" he said out loud, slapping the desk and walking toward the window. It had now been a month and a week and the DuBois murder was still not solved. In fact DuBois's widow, the considered killer, was scott-free because no evidence in the shape of hair, fingerprints, or anything were linked to her. It was like she was just there.
Something nagged at his mind. He yawned and rubbed the back of his stiff neck.
Looking back at all the paperwork on his desk for the DuBois case and the faxes from the Mayor and D.A. only reminded him of this large amount of stress.
"Got **** it! This is some ****!" He said violently again.
"Now darling is that the way to greet an old girlfriend." A velvety deep and melodic voice whispered in the quietness.
Raymond glanced up into the face of the last woman he thought he'd ever see.
"Eartha?" He asked, a bit surprised. "Eartha Jacklynne Devereaux? Lord what are you doing here?" He asked taking in the appearance of the woman he'd almost married once.
Eartha Jacklynn Devereaux was the kind of woman that a man would never forget. This woman stood at 5'11, every inch creole woman, but with a rich fudge color complexion and hazel eyes. This Amazon was indeed built like an Amazon and had the power of one. Her brown velvet voice was husky and deep in such a pure and smooth way. It wasn't mannish, but rather deep for a female. Eartha was a black diva in every sense of the word! She had risen from obscurity in the French Quarter of New Orleans to wealth; riding and trading in on her beauty and her gorgeous and exotic voice.
Eartha was in fine possession of a dark and resounding voice like midnight blue satin. Hers was a voice that could sound like a silken thread or a resounding organ. She was able to sing any form of music she wanted. From Opera to Jazz, and R n B to Soul. You name it and she'd mastered it. She had risen to top the music charts and take the music world by storm! This woman knew no boundaries.
But besides just being talented and ambitious, those who knew Eartha personally knew she had an affinity for being a gorgeous Jezebel, and that was dear Eartha's stage name. It fit to perfection.
Raymond took in her appearance. In over ten years, Eartha hadn't even changed! It was as though she and time had struck a bargain and she had remained untouched, growing sexier and tighter with each passing year.
"Raymond are you going to stand there and drool over me? I'm the same Eartha you walked out on ten years ago." She said smoothly in that whisky dark voice; her face lit up with amusement.
Raymond caught himself and sad down. "Well we know why I walked out...ten years ago as you said." He replied calmly, of which he didn't feel.
Eartha gave a throaty chuckle and took the seat opposite him.
"Baby it really is good to see you after all of these years." She said sweetly. "God knows I've missed you and of course you look even better than before." He stared at her striving to gauge what type of game she was playing.
"I'm just on a brief break from touring and I decided to come back to my roots before heading to
