Cruel Comfort (Evan Buckley Thrillers Book 1)

by James, Harper

  'Let me take a stab at what you found out from Clements and Hendricks,' Faulkner said. 'Clements hates Hendricks and Hendricks hates him back. How’d I do?'

  'You could have told me that earlier and saved me two journeys.'

  'You wouldn't have believed me. You're dead set on re-inventing the wheel; who am I to stand in your way?'

  'Why do they hate each other?'

  'The original reason - who knows, but I don't think it's got anything to do with the case. Just one of those things.'

  'Hendricks said the school wanted to get rid of Clements before all this happened. That he was a pedophile - sorry, a pederast.'

  'That's just Hendricks trying to cause trouble. Nothing new there. Besides, how would the school bus driver know what the school was planning anyhow?'

  'True, but why would he want to cause trouble for Clements. He already helped lose him his job.'

  'Because Clements helped him lose his.'

  'He said he quit.'

  'He would, wouldn't he. Clements didn't take all this lying down. He kicked up a shitstorm and started spreading rumors about Hendricks to discredit his story. It all got very acrimonious. The school got sick of it all and kicked them both out.'

  'Why didn't you investigate Hendricks?'

  'We talked to him along with everyone else.'

  'But you didn't give him the treatment Clements got.'

  'There was no reason to. He didn't give the kid rides home in his car and keep it secret. Besides, Clements was badmouthing him, but all he was really saying was he had his head up his ass. Nobody was accusing him of anything, apart from being a totally useless piece of shit.'

  'Still...'

  Faulkner swivelled on his stool to face Evan and studied him with hard, gray-blue eyes. With his steel gray hair and well preserved physique, Evan reckoned he did pretty well with the women in here. He was a bit too old for the cougars but he probably did okay.

  'How old are you son?’

  ‘Thirty-two. Why?’

  ‘Because when all this happened, I already had more years on the force than you’ve graced this planet with your existence. And my gut told me he wasn’t a threat.’

  ‘Your gut could’ve been wrong.’

  Faulkner nodded in agreement. ‘Maybe it could, at that. And when you’re old enough to wear long pants, maybe we’ll have that discussion. Luckily you're old enough to buy a drink.’ He pushed his empty glass towards Evan.

  Evan wasn't happy with Faulkner's answer but he knew he'd have to leave it for the time being. If he pushed Faulkner too hard, especially after a few drinks, he'd either get angry or clam up.

  After he'd ordered the next round, he decided to change the subject to a less confrontational topic before bringing up Schneider.

  'How comes Hendricks can afford such a big place?'

  Faulkner stiffened almost imperceptibly but Evan caught it. What the hell was that about?

  'No idea. Maybe he won the lottery.'

  'Has he always lived there?'

  'I don't think so. I think he moved into town a couple of years before all this happened.'

  Evan wanted to push it further but he was getting the feeling all Faulkner's answers were going to be negative. He suddenly remembered what Clements had said about Faulkner hiding something; could this be what he meant?

  'There's something else I wanted to ask about.'

  Faulkner opened his eyes wide in mock amazement. 'No kidding?'

  'Do you remember anything about a woman called Barbara Schneider? She went missing around the same time?'

  'Not particularly. Should I?'

  'There were rumors going round that Robbie Clayton ran off with another woman. Some of them even say that they killed the boy because he found them out.'

  Faulkner was paying more attention now. Evan carried on. 'You thought Clayton took off; this woman disappeared at the same time. According to her husband she was playing around with other men. It all fits.'

  'Most things do if you force them hard enough. You talked to the husband?'

  'Yeah. He says he talked to someone at the time called Fukner. Was there anyone by that name in the department?'

  'Don't be a smart ass. I don't remember him.'

  Evan laughed. 'You wouldn't forget him. He's as nutty as a fruit cake.' He made a circling motion with his finger at the side of his head. 'There's a good chance he made it all up.'

  'Even so, I can't believe we didn't look into it.'

  'Apparently the rumors didn't start until later so it wouldn't have been so obvious.' Evan was surprised to find he was making excuses for Faulkner.

  'Rumors or not, we should have put it together.' Especially since it fitted with your preferred explanation.

  'I think Ed Guillory might be looking into it now.'

  'Guillory's okay.'

  Evan thought he was going to say more but he'd drifted off into the past. He seemed genuinely shocked that he might have missed something important.

  'You know, I kind of lost focus at the end,' he said suddenly. He looked down and started twisting his wedding ring. Evan realized he’d not noticed that he still wore it. Maybe he didn’t come here to pick up women after all. 'The wife was so ill. She wasn't sleeping, I wasn't sleeping, and it was affecting me at work. It was one of the reasons I retired. I could have carried on if I'd wanted to. You might not believe it, but they didn't want me to go.' He gave Evan a wry smile.

  Evan didn't say anything. It was quite an admission; he didn't really know what to say. Suddenly Faulkner didn't seem quite the hardass that Linda Clayton and Ray Clements made him out to be. In fact it looked like he was about to get all maudlin.

  'Don't worry about giving me a ride home,' Faulkner said. 'I'm going to have a few more then I'll get a taxi home. You run along now.' He patted Evan patronisingly on the arm. Despite that, for the first time that evening Evan was glad the place was so noisy and busy. If they'd been in a nice, comfortable bar with some good music instead of the shit they were playing here, he'd have been tempted to leave the car and get drunk with Faulkner. He thought that would have been a very bad idea indeed. But he was wrong; he'd have been much better off staying.

  CHAPTER 17

  Evan didn't see the guy standing at the end of the bar as he walked out, and he didn't see him following him. Faulkner's mind was a million miles away so he wasn't aware of anything going on at the bar. Besides, the guy didn’t have tits so Faulkner wouldn’t have paid any attention anyway. Outside it was quiet and dark with a gentle breeze. He was almost at his car when he heard footsteps coming up behind him fast. He turned, but too late to do anything to stop the baseball bat that was jabbed hard into his gut. He grunted loudly as the wind went out of him and he doubled over, gasping for air.

  The guy dropped the bat and placed his palms lightly, almost gently, on Evan's head to steady it, then brought his knee sharply up into Evan's face. A blinding flash of pain erupted behind his eyes as Evan felt his nose break. The guy pushed him onto his face on the floor and dropped heavily on one knee onto Evan’s back. The little air left in his lungs was squeezed out of him. He felt like a used tube of toothpaste. The guy picked the bat up again, hooked it under Evan's chin and pulled back hard, crushing Evan's windpipe. He couldn't breathe; he tried to struggle but the guy was too heavy and it was taking all his concentration trying to get some air into his screaming lungs.

  The guy used the bat to pull Evan's head even further back. He leant down and put his mouth right above Evan's ear. Evan could feel his hot breath on his cheek and smell his aftershave. Then, without warning, he bit down onto Evan's ear and tore a vicious chunk out of it. Evan screamed and writhed on the ground as the guy spat a small piece of his ear onto the asphalt.

  'That's what my ear feels like with the amount of grief I've been getting because of you,' the guy snarled. 'I almost wish someone would bite mine off.’ He laughed and jerked the bat again and Evan knew he was close to passing out. Blood ran down the side of his face, do
wn his neck and soaked into his shirt. His lungs burned and the pressure on his windpipe was choking him. ‘You've got something I want.'

  Then the guy dropped the bat, fished in his pocket and brought out some heavy-duty cable ties. He pulled Evan's arms roughly behind him and knelt on them until Evan felt his shoulders start to slip in their sockets. He looped one of the ties round Evan's wrists and pulled it tight. He looped another two over the first one and yanked them until Evan felt the hard plastic cut into his flesh. Then he stood up, rolled Evan onto his side with his foot and kicked him hard in the balls.

  There was a searing stab of pain, his stomach muscles contracted violently and he jack-knifed on the ground. He couldn't get any air. He was going to pass out soon. His insides felt like they were being twisted and crushed and he wanted to vomit and crap himself at the same time.

  'You ought to learn how to look after yourself,' the guy said, laughing and picking the bat up again. 'Get yourself in better shape.'

  Evan forced his body to straighten out and rolled onto his back. He heaved huge mouthfuls of beautiful air deep into his body and looked up into Hugh McIntyre's gloating face. McIntyre was breathing heavily from his exertions. The last time Evan had seen him looking like that he was disappearing into the distance in his rear-view mirror. 'You blindsided me,' he wheezed.

  McIntyre let out a sardonic laugh. 'Really? It wouldn't have made any difference, you pussy.' He prodded Evan with his boot. 'Get up shithead; we're going for a ride.'

  Evan didn't think he'd ever be able to stand up straight again. He rolled onto his front and managed to lever himself onto his knees. The effort made everything hurt. He couldn't concentrate on anything apart from the dull ache spreading out from his groin. He let his head drop and tried to pull himself together. Blood dripped from his ear onto the ground.

  ‘Hey, lazybones’ McIntyre called in a sing-song voice, and swung the bat languidly at his head. Evan looked up and raised his arm quickly to protect himself. It caught him right on the tip of the elbow, sending a hot pain shooting up and down his arm.

  Evan struggled to get up but McIntyre pushed him over again with his foot. 'I said, get up. Didn't you hear me? Something wrong with your ears?' He laughed. He was enjoying himself.

  'Hey, what the hell's going on over there?' Evan recognized Faulkner's voice shouting across the parking lot. McIntyre glanced round and saw Faulkner starting out across the parking lot towards them. He aimed another vicious kick; Evan managed to twist into it and take it on the outside of his thigh instead of his balls.

  'This isn't over, Buckley,' McIntyre said. He turned and ran off across the parking lot, disappearing into the bushes on the far side.

  Evan lay there in a sea of pain as his ear, nose, stomach and balls all competed for his attention, while Faulkner jogged across to him. Faulkner squatted down and got his pocket knife out and sliced through the cable ties. Evan sat up gingerly and crossed his arms, massaging some life into them.

  'What was that all about?' Faulkner said and rested a hand on Evan’s shoulder.

  'That was the guy who's screwing my late client's wife.’ He was seized by a fit of coughing. It made everything hurt twice as bad. ‘He wasn't too happy about me sticking my telephoto lens up his girlfriend's tired old twat, as you like to put it.'

  'Can't say I blame the guy in principle.’

  'Thanks a lot.'

  ‘Maybe he got carried away a little bit.'

  Faulkner studied him for a moment before asking, 'Are you sure that's all there is to it? Seems a bit extreme.'

  ‘Stanton told me he’s got a very short fuse.’ He brought his knees up and hugged them to try to ease the dreadful ache coming from his groin. He rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes and tried to go to a quiet place beyond the reach of the pain.

  'He says I've got something he wants, but the only things I've got are the pictures.'

  'Whatever. We can't worry about that now; we've got to get you to the hospital. Your nose is broken.' He took hold of Evan's chin and turned his head to look at his ear. 'Looks like just a scratch on your ear. You’ll probably have to buy a new shirt though.’

  ‘It doesn’t feel like a scratch.’

  ‘Don’t be such a baby. I'd suggest another drink while we wait for the ambulance but I don't think they'd let you back inside looking like that. People would think the bouncers had done it.'

  'I can drive.'

  'No you can't. Two small beers might be okay, but two beers plus shock isn't.'

  Evan knew he was right and let him call the ambulance on his cell phone. 'Lucky for me you came out.'

  'I changed me mind about having any more to drink. Suddenly I just didn't fancy it any more – probably talking about Brenda. The noise was starting to get to me as well. I don’t know why you suggested the place. I came out to see if you were still here to give me a ride.'

  'The benefits of self control are manifold.'

  'I can have him picked up if you like.'

  Evan shook his head. 'What's the point? There are no witnesses; you didn't see his face and you're loaded anyway.'

  Faulkner rode with him in the ambulance. At the hospital his nose was cleaned up and realigned and they taped up his ear. Despite what Faulkner had said, it was more than a scratch as he’d known. The doctor said quite a large bite had been taken out of it.

  ‘You could probably match the biter’s teeth to the shape of this bite,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t worry, if I get the chance I’ll knock them out and bring them in,’ Evan replied.

  Once they’d dealt with the visible injuries, he asked the nurse whether she had any soothing lotion that she could massage into his aching balls. She declined politely with a tired, heard-it-all-before smile, although Evan could see she was tempted. At least she didn’t report him for sexual harassment.

  Faulkner asked him where he was going to spend the night. 'Does this guy know where you live?'

  'I'm not sure. He knows where my office is, so probably yes.'

  'You think he'll come back to finish what he started?'

  'Those were his parting words. He's certainly wired enough.'

  Evan told him about McIntyre chasing his car down the road. Faulkner laughed. 'Sounds like he's got some anger management issues.'

  'That's what Stanton said. But I'll be ready for him if he comes back.'

  Faulkner wasn’t impressed by the show of bravado. 'Not if you're comatose from all the painkillers you're going to need tonight. You can stay at my place if you like.'

  Evan considered the offer. 'You know, when I see cowboy boots like that I start thinking Brokeback Mountain, and I don't usually go back to a guy's place on a first date.'

  Faulkner punched him on the shoulder. Evan winced.

  'Sorry. Forgot about that.'

  'You're right about the painkillers. Do I get the bed?'

  Despite the painkillers Evan didn't sleep well that night. The couch was uncomfortable and he could hear Faulkner snoring like a warthog with bad sinuses through the thin wall. His nose hurt like hell and he kept rolling onto his half-eaten ear.

  He also had too many things running through his mind. He was going to have to do something about the situation with McIntyre. Apparently he wasn't going to let it drop - whatever it was. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that it must be something to do with the photos he'd taken - there just wasn't anything else it could be. Perhaps there was something in them more damaging than just being caught in bed with your partner's wife. He'd take a better look at them as soon as he could, even though he had no idea what he might be looking for.

  About five in the morning he gave up on trying to sleep. He got up and went and sat in the kitchen. He made himself a coffee and sat looking at the photographs on the wall. His gaze kept coming back to the one of Faulkner's wife and her folks. He got up and went to take a closer look at it. There was something about it that he couldn't put his finger on. It was taken a long time ago - f
orty years at least - and he didn't recognize any of them. She had been a beautiful young woman in her youth that was for sure.The old folks must have been dead for years and now Faulkner's wife was dead too. But there was something that niggled him. He knew it was going to bug the hell out of him until he could work it out, even though he had more important things to think about.

  After Faulkner had made them eggs and bacon for breakfast he dropped Evan off at the bar so he could pick up his car. He was relieved to see that McIntyre hadn't come back to vent his spleen by trashing his car. There was no doubt he knew which one it was because he must have been following him around for days. He was slightly dismayed to think that he hadn't noticed. Some private eye he was.

  CHAPTER 18

  Evan hadn't worked out what he was going to do next to try to move forward with his case, so he decided to go to the office and take a good look at the McIntyre photographs. He ran into Tom Jacobson in the parking lot.

  'What the hell happened to you?' he said getting out of his Volvo.

  'Our friend, Hugh McIntyre, caught up with me.'

  'I hope he looks worse.'

  'Afraid not. He blind-sided me with a baseball bat and I never got another chance. Luckily he was interrupted or I don’t know what would have happened.'

  'He's definitely got it in for you. Persistent, too. You need to be careful.'

  'Don't worry; I'm about to get onto it now.'

  'Just let me know if you need any stronger painkillers. How's the "Clayton Case" coming along?'

  Evan shrugged. 'I'm not sure. The more I dig, the more complicated it becomes. Nobody knows a thing, but, despite that, they all manage to point the finger at each other. They’re like a bunch of kids.'

  Jacobson smiled knowingly at Evan. 'So the Police aren't complete idiots then?'

  'Not complete, no,' Evan conceded. 'It was actually one of the detectives who came to the office who put her onto me.'

  'Really? That was good of him. He must have some faith in you.'

  'I'm not sure if I'm grateful or not.'