What Happened to Lori
Page 28
The pain vanished, the relief almost spiritual, and Fabler tried to take advantage, tried to squirm away, but none of his muscles obeyed. He flopped around like a landed fish, listening to a moan that he realized was coming from his own throat.
“He’s cuffed.”
Fabler tried to straighten his arms, discovered they were bound behind his back.
Then the terrible pain returned.
Almost as soon as it began, it ceased.
“This is a fresh battery, Fabler. If you want to see how long it lasts, keep struggling.”
Words formed in Fabler’s head.
But he couldn’t get his mouth to form them.
“We’re going back into the house, and we’re going to sit down and have a nice, civilized talk. Unless you want to get cute. Then…”
Agony again. Fabler tried to scream but his throat seized up.
Grim squatted in front of him and let go of the trigger. “Do we understand each other?”
Grim’s face was blank. Dead.
“I said, do we understand each other?”
Fabler managed to nod. Then Grim and Presley were hauling him to his shaky feet, Fabler being half-marched/half-dragged back to the cabin.
For the first time in over three years, Fabler was terrified.
Not of Grim.
Not of the pain to come.
But of being handcuffed. Subdued. Helpless.
KADIR ○ 7:45am
Watching from the bushes, Kadir volleyed around several thoughts.
“What do you think they’re doing with that guy in his undies?”
Kadir told Doruk, hunching down next to him, to shut up.
Kadir wondered which.
Kadir smiled.
“I gotta piss.”
“So go piss, Doruk. I don’t need a play-by-play.”
“Well, what are we supposed to do next?”
“Watch. Wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“For our chance, Doruk.”
Kadir had a feeling that this would pay-off. Big time.
“Look at that big dirt circle on the lawn. What do you think did that?”
“I don’t give a shit. Go piss. I’m going up to the house for a closer look. Keep quiet.”
Doruk went off to do his dirty business, and Kadir crept up to a window to see what he could see.
GRIM ○ 7:52am
The rolling, boiling feeling in his stomach made Grim grateful he hadn’t had breakfast.
In the heat of the fight-or-flight moment, when Grim had feared for his life, tasing Fabler had been an automatic response. Cop training, and soldier training, made self-defense easy.
But zapping his former best friend, while Fabler writhed on the ground in pain, nauseated Grim.
Being trained on the X26 P.M.ant taking two darts to the chest; an awful experience.
But Grim didn’t remove the barbed probes, still stuck in Fabler’s bare side as he sat, practically naked, in a decorative iron kitchen chair, his hands cuffed behind him, his ankles bound to the furniture legs with duct tape.
Grim recovered the carbine parts and placed them and Fabler’s KRISS in the living room, on the table near the front door.
Presley raised an eyebrow. “Afraid you’ll be tempted to shoot him?”
“No guns in the interrogation room. Fabler, even restrained, is still a threat. We don’t want to give him a chance to arm himself.”
He waved away a fly, then motioned for Presley, who held an ice pack to the bridge of her nose.
He kept his voice low, soft, meeting Presley’s gaze. “You might not want to be around for this.”
Presley whispered too. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to zap him a few more times. I’ve got maybe ten minutes of battery left.”
Disgust turned Presley’s pretty face into a Halloween mask. “Jesus, Grim.”
“Well, what’s the alternative? Beating him? Cutting him? Burning him? At least the taser doesn’t do any long-term damage.”
Presley shivered, crossing her arms and rubbing her triceps. “I hate this.”
“Me, too. But he killed my sister, Presley.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“You want the money, don’t you? For Brooklyn?”
Presley’s lips formed a tight line. She nodded.
“Take a walk, Presley. Get some air. Come back in ten minutes.”
Presley turned like she was going to leave. But she didn’t.
“I’m staying.”
“Why?”
“Maybe I can help.”
“Look, if you want to zap him, be my guest.”
Presley shook her head. “No way.” Then she turned back and stared at Fabler, her expression softening. “But isn’t good cop/bad cop actually a thing?”
Grim thought about the years he spent, interrogating suspects, getting perps to confess. The mind game often produced more than the rough stuff. “Yeah. It is.”
“Does it work?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“What do I have to do?”
“You sure?”
“This is going to sound weird… I think I should be here for him. I dunno why. Maybe because he’s out of his mind, and he needs someone. Maybe because, since I’m taking all of his money, it’s the least I can do. Maybe…” Her voice trailed off.
“There are things about him you still like.”
She nodded.
Grim put his palm to his forehead and rubbed. “Me, too. We were like brothers. We were brothers. But the man I knew… he’s gone. In his place is this crazy insane person who killed Lori.”
Presley’s face got hard again. “This is for the money, Grim. Not to make him confess.”
“I know.”
“If this gets personal, I’ll stop you.”
“Okay.”
“I’m serious.”
“I won’t get personal. This is just about the money.”
“So how does this work? Good co
p/bad cop?”
“You be the carrot. I’ll be the stick. You try to talk sense into me, to stop me. But you won’t be able to, because I’m out of control. So you plead with Fabler, blame him for what’s happening because he won’t talk. You have to make him think that he’s the one hurting himself. That talking is the only way to stop it. And you have to be convincing. The more upset you get, the better.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
“You ready?”
“Yeah.”
Grim took a deep breath, swallowed the growing knot in his throat, and led them back into the kitchen, where Fabler had somehow worked his underwear down off his butt and around his thighs.
“Oh, c’mon man.” Grim hiked up Fabler’s boxer-briefs. “There are ladies present.”
Fabler looked at Presley, stone-faced. “Is the lady going to help torture me?”
Grim didn’t answer. Presley looked away.
Fabler glared at Grim, his eyes narrowing. “Listen to me, Grim. Listen to me real hard. You’re not going to get the answers you want.”
Grim picked up the taser where he’d set it on the kitchen table a meter away.
“I mean it, Grim. You don’t want to do this. You won’t like where it leads.”
“What choice do I have, Fabler?”
“You lost me as a friend. You don’t want me as an enemy.”
“We’re already enemies.”
“No, we’re not. There’s a lot of things that you don’t understand.”
“Well, why don’t you explain them to me, old buddy?”
Fabler didn’t answer.
Grim sighed. “The rules are simple. Cooperate, and I won’t hurt you. And if you don’t cooperate…”
Fabler locked eyes with him, staring, hard, right into Grim’s soul.
Grim squeezed the trigger.
Fabler’s whole body seized up, his arms and legs tensing against his bonds, and a scream came out of his clenched jaw.
Grim released the trigger, using every ounce of his self-control to keep a poker face.
“That was five seconds. I’ve got forty-eight minutes left on this battery. And when that’s done, I have a fresh one in the car. So you’re going to answer some questions for me.”
Fabler fixing on the bare wall again.
“Where’s the money, Fabler?”
Fabler’s gaze snapped back to Grim. “What?”
“The money. I know you’ve got money stashed from our contractor days. Plus you sued the crap out of the State, and you’re not the type to trust banks. Where is it?”
Fabler snickered.
“Money? This is about money?”
“Answer the question.”
“I’m happy to answer, Grim. I’ve got over six hundred thousand dollars in gold coins. You can have all of it. Let me go, and it’s all yours.”
“Six hundred thousand?”
Grim gave Presley a look.
Fabler grinned at Presley. “Six hundred k. Pistol whip Grim, and you can have it all.”
Presley didn’t make any sort of move to attack him. She focused on Fabler, squatting to his level, touching him on the shoulder.
“We’ll let you go. Just tell us where the coins are.”
“They’re in…” The amusement dropped off Fabler’s face, and his eyes went dark. “I can’t tell you where. But let me go and I’ll get them for you.”
“Where are the coins, Fabler?”
“Close. I’ll get them for you, Grim. You have my word.”
“Tell me where they are, and I’ll get them.”
“I… can’t do that.”
“Fabler.” Presley dropped to her knees. “I have a daughter. She’s sick.”
“You have a daughter?” A ferocious look came over Fabler, and he clenched his teeth. “We had rules, goddammit. You weren’t supposed to have any family.”
“She needs a heart transplant, Fabler.”
Fabler closed his eyes and shook his head as if unable to accept the information. “You need to get out of here, Presley. Right. Now.”
Grim held up the taser. “Fabler. I’m not going to ask again.”
Fabler turned his rage on Grim. “You hired her, didn’t you? You asshole. What, you needed an even closer eye on me? All your damn cameras weren’t enough?”
Grim didn’t hide his surprise. “You know about the cameras?”
“Don’t be an idiot. Of course I know about the cameras. They’re in every goddamn room of my goddamn house.”
Presley crossed her arms. “You didn’t tell me.”
Fabler sneered at her. “Apparently we both have some pretty big secrets.”
Grim stepped in front of her, getting between them. “I had to rig up cameras, Fabler. You didn’t give me a choice. You killed my sister.”
“I love your sister.”
“Then why did you kill her?”
“Grim.” Presley stood up and tugged on Grim’s arm, giving him a stern look. “This is getting personal.”
Fabler laughed. But it wasn’t a real laugh. It was one of those false bravado laughs. “You can’t talk sense to a drunk, Presley. He framed me and sent me to prison for three years.”
Grim dodged around Presley, pointing his finger at Fabler. “You needed to be locked up.”
“Me? You were the loose cannon, Grim. You were an out-of-control alcoholic. No idea what you were doing. Do you even know how you lost your job?”
“Don’t be delusional. You were drunk all the time. A danger to yourself, and others. And you kept threatening me.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Fabler?” Grim looked at Presley. “I seriously have no idea what he’s talking about.”
“You sat, right there, at my kitchen table, after driving here, blotto, and pulled a gun on me and pointed it at my head.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“You don’t remember this at all, do you, Grim? I told you to shoot me. I begged you to shoot me. Then you started crying and turned the gun on yourself.”
“Then I took the gun away from your drunk ass, and you fell on the floor, raving that you would send me to prison even if you had to frame me. So I did the only thing I could. I framed you first.”
Grim snorted. “Bullshit. You didn’t set me up. I set you up.”
“How dumb are you, Grim? You saw the videotape. The guy at the sporting goods store, buying shoes. The same guy at the gas station, pumping gas into your crappy Bronco. The guy wearing your baseball cap.”
“Of course it was me. I even took off my wedding band, and I promised your sister I’d never take it off. Who did you think it was in that video footage?”
“I thought maybe some other cop at the station, who was jealous or something.”
“Jealous of what? Your incompetence? You wer
e passed out on my damn floor, I took your stupid baseball cap, took your truck, and bought the loudest, most obnoxious running shoes I could find. Then I bought gas. Both times I made sure I was on the security camera, but without showing my face. Then I came back here, cut open your hand—”
Grim held up his hand and looked at the scar. He assumed he’d gotten it falling down drunk.
“—and put your blood on the shoes and an old hammer, and stuck them in my closet. I figured you’d be around with a warrant soon enough, and when you did, you’d find them. Then, when they ran the DNA, it would link to you.”
“You tried to make it look like I was framing you. So I’d lose my job.”
“No shit.”
“But instead I switched the blood test results. With Lori’s.”
Fabler squinted at him. “How’d you do that? Where’d you get her DNA?”
“I grew up in this house. I have keys. After you killed her, I found a tampon in the bathroom garbage.”
Fabler shook his head. “You’re a real piece of work, Grim. Did you break into my lawyer’s house?”
“I did the guy a favor. His locks were garbage.”
“My lawyer was garbage. It took him three years to follow the simple trail I sent him on.”
Grim frowned. “Hey, if you knew all of this, why didn’t you say anything at the trial?”
Fabler didn’t answer.
“You could have brought all of this up. Instead you kept quiet. All these years, you kept quiet. Why, Fabler?”
Fabler closed his eyes.
“Tell me.”
“You wouldn’t understand, Grim.”
“Why would an innocent man want to go to prison? Unless…”
“You wanted to go to jail, because you did it.”
“I needed some time. To think. And, mostly, to get away from the drunken train wreck you’d become. You were interfering with…”
“With what?”
“With… things.”
“Bullshit. You went to jail because you felt guilty.”
Fabler’s stone face cracked. His eyes became glassy.
“You felt guilty, because you are guilty.”
“You don’t understand.”
Grim made a WTF face. “What don’t I understand? You went to jail, because you knew you should be in jail, because you killed my sister.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t understand punishing yourself, Grim. You’ve been doing it for years.”