A Twisted Web - Benoit Blanc

Six - Patio in the Evening

"This seat's taken, I'm afraid."

Flora  jumped at the voice in the dark. She had left the living room in hopes of finding some peace and quiet away from the family out on the patio, but the patio furniture was already occupied, by Detective Blanc. "Mind if I join you?" She gestured to one of the empty chairs. 

"Please, by all means." He gestured to the empty chair before her. He was smoking a cigar. 

She sank into the seat heavily, rubbing a hand over her face.  "I just can't be in the same room as my Dad right now."

"I understand." 

"Do you?" Her question wasn't accusatory, or at least she didn't mean for it to be. She was just curious. 

"To some extent, yes, I think so. At least, I can understand why you wouldn't want to be near him."

"Yeah." She sighed.  They sat in silence for a few moments.  It was a strangely comfortable silence, she only feeling uncomfortable because she had blown up at him twice now.  Other than that, they were quite at ease sitting together on the patio on a fairly warm autumn night.   "Look, I don't mean to keep getting upset with you."

"There's been a lot of tension lately. I understand, Ms. Drysdale." 

"Yeah, there's that, and I just don't want you to be right.  I've always had my doubts about my family - that they're liars and cheats and insincere. I just don't like being proven right."

"No need to explain yourself, Miss Drysdale, or to apologize.  I understand that you've been under a lot of strain lately, and at once. I apologize  for only adding to it."

"Thanks, but you're just doing your job.  And honestly, as shitty as it is, I'm glad you told me about my Dad. It's better than not knowing and being ignorant to what he's done, and acting like nothing's happened cause I don't know.  Now I just have to figure out how to tell Mom - or if I'm going to..." That was a whole other can of worms she didn't really want to touch, but felt obliged to, now that she knew about her dad's infidelity.  "And should I even be the one to tell her? I wish Grandpa was here to tell her. He'd hate doing it,  but he'd know how to best approach it. They were close, him and Mom, so he'd know how to tell her.  And I know I shouldn't be mad at Marta, and I don't want to be, but I can't believe she knew. But then I'm trying to think of it from her perspective, and how hard it would be to have that knowledge, and how to bring it up." Actually, Marta not telling her probably felt a lot like Flora not telling Linda, but debating whether or not she should now that she knew. "And  I swear, if my Dad calls me 'Princess' one more time - I mean, I've always hated that nickname, but now that I know what a lying cheat he is-" She broke off suddenly.  "Sorry, I don't mean to lay this all on you. I didn't mean to disrupt your peaceful smoke."

It actually looked rather calming. She almost added, 'Maybe I'll go through my cousin's secret stash and join you', but she felt that mentioning Meg's secret stash of drugs to a detective currently investigating her family wasn't such a good idea. Plus, the Thrombeys seemed to have enough problems as it was without bringing Meg's secret drugs into the mix. In fact, the secret drugs seemed to be one of the lesser problems at the moment. So good thing she didn't mention it. 

"Not at all, Ms. Drysdale. Again, no need for you to apologize."

"Thanks. And thanks for listening, and understanding."

"Of course."

They sat in silence again, again that almost strangely comfortable silence.  After getting that off her chest, and apologizing to him for her constant explosions at him, this silence was much more comfortable for her. "I read the New Yorker article about you," she said, the one to break the silence again. She hoped he didn't mind her chatter, but he seemed to not mind, and so she continued.  She was also desperate to move the conversation away from herself and her messy current family situation.

He chuckled a little at this.  "And, what did you think?"

"It was very interesting.  And long."

He chuckled again.  "It is that. I didn't know one could say so much about me."

"How do you feel about it?"

He shrugged.  "I'm neither pleased nor unhappy with it. Fairly neutral."

"That's pretty cool though, having an article in the New Yorker about yourself."

Again, he shrugged.  "I suppose." 

Clearly, the little things meant more to him. She liked that. 

"I must admit I've been doing some research on you as well."

"Oh?"

"I've read some of your blog."

"Ah. Not quite as prestigious as a New Yorker article." Faraway Flora had a nice ring to it (Harlan had always liked the name), but it didn't sound quite as intriguing as, Detective Benoit Blanc: The Last of the Gentleman Sleuths.  "Is it part of your investigation?"

"It is."

"And, what did you think?"

"Very informative and very interesting. You've certainly been to a lot of places."

"Yeah, I love it, I really thrive off of that." Her smile faltered a little.  "But lately I've been thinking about all the time I spent away, and how I could have spent more time here with Grandpa..." 

"By the sounds of it from your blog, your grandfather was always very supportive of your adventures."

"Yeah, he was. He paid for a lot of them when I was first starting out.  I eventually paid him back of course, but he was always super supportive. And not only in my travels - he was just a really supportive guy overall." God, she missed him. So much.

"Well it sounds like to me you have a lot of happy memories with him."

Now she smiled again.  "Yeah, I do." 

They descended into silence again, she watching the shadows pass over his face from the faint light of his cigar. He really looked liked a classic detective from some old mystery novel or a black-and-white movie, smoking a cigar while staring off into the distance thoughtfully. It reminded her of her grandpa's characters. 

After a few more minutes of sitting in that comfortable silence, the breeze became more chilled that just cool and Flora felt the exhaustion from the day settle over her.  "Well, I'm going to turn in, I think - and try to avoid my family on the way upstairs." She got to her feet.   " Wish me luck." 

"I wish you luck."

She chuckled.  "Goodnight, Detective." 

"Goodnight, Ms. Drysdale."  He stopped her before she headed back into the house.  "I am curious though - have you been in contact with your brother lately?"

The million-dollar question.  She sighed.  "No, but it's not without trying.  I've texted, called him, even went to his house. Have no idea where he is.  He's been pretty absent throughout all of this. Didn't even come to Granddad's funeral."  Asshole. 

"Hmm." Blanc hummed.  "Do you think he'll be there tomorrow?"

"I hope so.  But Ransom hates family gatherings, even more than I do." 

"Hmm." Blanc hummed again thoughtfully.  "Well, goodnight, Ms. Drysdale."

"Goodnight, Detective.  Will you be there at the will reading tomorrow?"

"I certainly will."

"All right, see you then, then."

"Yes, goodnight."

"Goodnight." With that, she headed inside and left him alone out there on the patio. 

(A nice moment between them :) 

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :))