Cruel Comfort (Evan Buckley Thrillers Book 1)

by James, Harper

  'You don't take any prisoners do you? The guy's in hospital. He nearly died - he might be dead now.'

  'In which case, I can't hurt him. But he didn't tell me the truth, so if he's still alive, I want to know why he lied.'

  'You need to be careful, Evan. There are some serious stakes her. His whole reputation is at risk...at the very least. If you're right, he doesn't come out of this looking good, whatever happens.'

  'I'm aware of that. Does that mean I should drop it?'

  Jacobson held up his hands. 'I'm not saying that. Just be careful. If you tell Faulkner what you know and then Hendricks finds out, you'll be on his list too. How many people after you can you handle?'

  'I'm a little more prepared now.' He put his hand in his pocket and brought out the SIG-Sauer P226 pistol he had taken from Faulkner's trailer. He was disconcerted how good it felt in his hand. Almost natural.

  'Jesus, Evan, where'd you get that from?' Jacobson took it from him like a fascinated schoolboy and hefted it a moment before putting it down on the desk.

  'I borrowed it from Faulkner.'

  'Uh huh. I assume he doesn't know about this loan he's made you yet.'

  'Not yet. With any luck I'll have it back in his trailer before he gets back from the hospital. Or perhaps I'll keep it and blame it on Hendricks.'

  Jacobson gave him his best reproving look. 'Do you know how to use it?'

  'My understanding is that you point this end' - he pointed to the barrel - 'at someone you don’t like and pull the trigger. That's this little curved bit here.'

  'Okay, smartass. I just hope you know what you're getting into. If you do end up shooting anyone with it, you are going to be in some serious shit. My advice is you take it back right now.'

  CHAPTER 34

  Evan printed out the photograph Audrey had sent him and then sent her a quick email. Then he rang the hospital and was told that Faulkner was awake and doing well, but they were keeping him in for observation for a few days. Evan asked if he could have visitors and they said that was okay too, so long as they didn't tire him out too much.

  That'll be the least of his worries, Evan thought and headed down to his car. When he got to the hospital they told him Faulkner already had a visitor but he could go in too. They reminded him again that Faulkner was still very weak and told him not to be too long.

  Evan thought he had a good idea who the other visitor was and sure enough, there was Guillory sitting comfortably in the visitor's chair when Evan walked in. Faulkner was sitting up in bed with his head bandaged up and a saline drip or something in his arm, but apart from that he didn't look too bad.

  'If it isn't the local hero himself,' Guillory said and started humming the Springsteen song.

  Evan held up his arms to accept the accolade. 'I sure hope that's going to stick like the last name you gave me.'

  'Peeper, you mean? I doubt it.' He chuckled. 'Heroes come and go, but you know what they say - once a peeper, always a peeper.'

  'Looks like we're quits,' Faulkner said. 'Thank you. Although I got to you before you were unconscious, so I'm still ahead.'

  'Thank Briggs, not me. I was all for leaving you there, but he said, no, call it in.'

  Faulkner smiled and winced. Evan felt a pang of guilt at the prospect of what he had to do as soon as Guillory left. He wished there wasn't such an easy bonhomie developing between the three of them. He was sure Faulkner had no idea of what was coming. He was probably feeling good about being alive and now his world was about to go up in smoke. What the hell am I feeling guilty about he tried to tell himself, but it didn't stop him feeling sick.

  Guillory got up out of his chair. 'Looks like you were right about the perp, too.'

  Evan tried to keep the told-you-so look off his face and failed.

  'Don't look so smug,' Guillory said, 'You wanted to lock him up first and ask questions later.'

  Evan looked at Faulkner who nodded, which made him wince again. 'It was definitely Hendricks. I came back inside after talking to you and he hit me upside the head as soon as my back was turned. I don't know what it was he used but luckily it wasn't quite up to the job.'

  'Have you been round to see him yet?' Evan asked Guillory.

  'I went round there but he wasn't in.'

  'Done a bunk or just out buying groceries?'

  'Can't say. There was no sign of him or his pickup but that doesn't prove anything. I'm heading back out there later on to see if I can catch him.' He looked down at Faulkner sitting propped up in his bed. 'Look after yourself, Matt. I'll be in touch.'

  Evan sat down in the visitor's chair before his legs gave out. He couldn't believe how nervous he felt. He wished more than anything that Audrey's photograph had proved him wrong. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead.

  'You look as bad as I feel,' Faulkner said.

  'I can't stand hospitals.'

  'It's fine by me. Bed's more comfortable than the ones in the morgue.'

  Evan didn't know how to start. They both sat there in a slightly less than comfortable silence.

  'Sorry about the fishing trip,' Faulkner said. 'Maybe we'll do it another time.'

  Evan swallowed a lump the size of his fist. I sincerely doubt that after tonight. He stood up again. 'I've got to go to the bathroom.'

  He splashed cold water over his face and tried to calm down. His heart was thumping in his chest. In the corner of the room he saw a huge cockroach scuttling across the floor. He turned and stamped on it, feeling it crunch and pop under his shoe. He felt about as loathsome as the bug he'd just crushed. It didn't help remembering that Faulkner had lied to him. He liked the guy and he was about to destroy him and grind him into the floor like he'd just done to the roach.

  'What's on your mind, son?' Faulkner said when Evan came back in to the room. 'I might have a bang on the head but I'm not stupid. I can see something's eating you. Fire away.'

  Evan didn't say anything. He took the two photographs out of his pocket and set them down in Faulkner's lap. Faulkner looked down at them and then back at Evan.

  'Uh huh. I won't ask how you got these; particularly this one' - he held up the one from his trailer - 'but I can see why you look so green around the gills.'

  Evan let out a weary sigh. He felt a little better now the real reason for his visit was out in the open. He'd felt a real fraud during the banter with the two of them.

  Faulkner seemed to want to take control of the conversation and pre-empted Evan's next question. 'You want to know why I didn't tell you Carl Hendricks is my brother-in-law.'

  'That would be as good a place as any to start.'

  'Because he's a low-life piece of shit and I've spent my whole life putting as much distance between him and me as possible.'

  'I can understand that. I've heard some stuff about him. I'd feel the same.'

  'But you're offended because I didn't take you into my confidence. Especially now we’re drinking and fishing buddies. Is that it?'

  'Don't be ridiculous. I couldn't give a shit about that.'

  'What then?'

  Evan forced himself to look Faulkner directly in the eye. 'It makes me wonder what else you're hiding.'

  'I get it. You think Hendricks abducted Daniel Clayton and I knew about it and covered it up because he's my wife's brother. Blood's thicker than water and all that crap.'

  'Wouldn't you?'

  'I might if I was the sort of person who was prone to jumping to conclusions.'

  'You think I'm jumping to conclusions? So give me an explanation I can believe.'

  'I just did. I was the Chief of Police. He'd been thrown out of the army and been in prison. How do you think that was going to effect my career prospects if I went round saying, Hey, have you met my brother-in-law? to all those upstanding local citizens?'

  Evan started to say something but Faulkner cut him off. 'What I want to know is how my concerns for my career and social standing - however selfish you might think they were - somehow translates in your mind into
me covering up a major crime. Maybe you can explain that to me.'

  'I didn't say that - you did.' God, that sounds pathetic.

  'It's what you think though.'

  'I don't want to think it, but there are so many unanswered questions.'

  'Try me.'

  'Why was he thrown out of the army? What did he go to prison for?'

  'None of that's relevant.'

  'Any reason why I'm supposed to take your word for that? Seeing as the whole reason I'm here is because you already lied to me.'

  Faulkner jerked forward almost pulling the drip out of his arm. 'I never lied to you. I just didn't volunteer all the information you feel you're entitled to.'

  Evan didn't believe it for a minute but he let it go for the moment. 'How did he end up living in the farm?'

  'Guilt. It's what makes the world go round. His folks thought they'd let him down. They blamed themselves for the piece of shit he turned into. So they gave him the farm and moved away. They felt like they'd evened the score.’ He shook his head. ‘And they say crime doesn't pay.'

  'Your wife couldn't have been very happy about that.'

  'She didn't care about the farm. She missed having her folks around of course.'

  'What did she think about her brother?'

  Faulkner didn't answer immediately. Was he concocting a carefully crafted reply, or had it given him genuine pause for thought?

  'It was her one blind spot. She couldn't see him for what he was. She saw him as a victim just like her folks did.'

  'I bet that caused a few arguments between you.'

  'That's none of your damn business,’ Faulkner snapped. He was right.

  'Why did he change his name?'

  Faulkner looked at him like he must be the one who just got hit on the head. 'What sort of a stupid question is that? Why do you think? So that he could start out as a brand new scumbag, why else?'

  Evan managed not to laugh. He liked Faulkner's attitude. 'I can see you're an advocate of rehabilitation.'

  'Rehabilitation my ass. You couldn't rehabilitate him any more than you could rehabilitate a cockroach.'

  Evan thought of the horrible crunch when he'd squashed the roach in the bathroom, and the disgusting mess on the floor afterwards. He'd read that they used elephants to squash the heads of convicted criminals in India. He pulled his mind back on track.

  'How did he get that job? Surely changing your name doesn't just wipe the slate clean. How did he provide references and that sort of thing?'

  Faulkner looked away but not before Evan had seen something in his eyes. Suddenly it clicked.

  'Don't tell me you got him the job.'

  Faulkner didn't say anything which was admission enough.

  'For Christ's sake, Faulkner. He's a convicted criminal and you got him the job as a school bus driver.'

  'You don't understand.'

  'You've just spent the last ten minutes running him down and telling me he was beyond rehabilitation, and then I find out you went and got him that job. I just can't believe it.' He ran his hand through his hair and held it back, enjoying the pull on his scalp, then released it again.

  'You don't understand,' Faulkner said again.

  'Then enlighten me.' All the fight had suddenly gone out of Faulkner. He looked like nothing more than an old man sitting in a hospital bed. Evan couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him.

  'I did it because my wife asked me to. She thought he deserved a break.'

  'A break?' It came out as a squeak. He shook his head in disbelief. 'He'd just been given a property worth I don't know how much. How much of a break did he need?'

  'She thought getting him a worthwhile job would help. Stop him sitting around the house drinking and calling up all his old lowlife buddies. She was worried he'd get led astray and end up back in prison.'

  Evan started to say that from the sound of it Hendricks would be the one doing the leading, but Faulkner carried on without listening.

  'It's not as if he came to me and said Hey, I'd really like a job as the school bus driver, because I want the chance to get close to the kids and then I went out and found him one. My wife saw the advert in the local paper and suggested it. The idea came from her, not him.'

  'And you thought, anything for an easy life. Keep the wife happy.' He regretted saying it as soon as it was out, especially as he knew he'd have done pretty much anything for Sarah.

  'No, that wasn't it at all. This was right around the time Brenda got ill.' He picked up the photograph of his wife with her folks that Evan had brought from his trailer, but he was looking through it to a time long ago. Evan was ashamed of the fact that he'd brought the photograph along, not to give an old man in his hospital bed some reminder of better times, but to use it as a weapon against him. 'There was even some suggestion that all this trouble with her brother started it off.'

  Evan almost groaned. Even though Faulkner hadn't said it in an accusatory way, he felt like a complete shit. Faulkner had actually risked his own career in an attempt to make his wife's life a little easier. And now, ten years later with the benefit of hindsight, Evan was giving him a hard time. He swallowed a lump the size of his fist. This wasn't how he'd pictured it panning out.

  'Her doctors said she shouldn't get stressed out over anything because it would just make her worse. Any she was stressed as hell over her brother.' He snorted. 'She even gave herself a hard time because she had a nice life and her brother didn't. No wonder you never see a hungry psychiatrist.'

  'Why couldn't she see what he was really like?'

  'Who knows. That's families for you. Did you ever read the poem This Be The Verse by Philip Larkin? He had a different take on families.'

  Evan ignored the question. 'What did you do?'

  'I told the school I'd run all the background checks for them. Then I told them he'd come out purer than the driven snow. The perfect candidate to drive their kids around.'

  'Did it help your wife get better?'

  'Definitely. For a while. Whereas my stress levels went through the roof. And stayed there.'

  'Did you regret doing it?'

  'What is this, some kind of psychiatric assessment?'

  'Sorry, none of my business.'

  'Don't worry about it. You know, it's actually something of a relief to talk about it after all these years.'

  Unfortunately they both knew it wasn't about to end there, with Evan assuming the role of Father Confessor and absolving Faulkner of his sins. It was about to get a lot worse for Faulkner and he could see it coming.

  'I've really dropped myself in it haven't I? As far as you're concerned, I've now got a compelling motive for protecting Carl Hendricks. If he goes down, I go down.'

  They were both quiet as the unavoidable truth of Faulkner's words sank in. The only sound was a comforting, quiet hum coming from the equipment in the room.

  'That's only true if Hendricks was guilty,' Evan said, surprising himself as he came to Faulkner's defence. 'Why did he go to prison?'

  Faulkner leaned back on the pillows and looked up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Evan knew something bad was coming.

  'Unlawful sexual intercourse,' he said quietly, without opening his eyes.

  Evan was beyond reacting. He leaned back and closed his own eyes. 'Girl or boy?'

  'Fifteen year old girl. Fifteen going on twenty-five. Two of them were convicted. Him and a buddy from the army.' His voice was completely flat and devoid of emotion.

  Evan was lost for words. He didn't know what to say. He wished more than anything that he was somewhere else. And he wondered if all this would have come out in a small boat in the middle of a lake, or whether it was just Faulkner’s weakened state.

  'He spent two years in prison,' Faulkner continued, 'before the conviction was overturned on appeal.'

  Evan sat up and opened his eyes. ‘That's something, at least. Why was it overturned?'

  'Apparently the original jury was deadlocked so it can't
have been black and white anyway. Then the judge reminded them about the time and expense involved with the trial and a possible retrial if they didn't make up their minds, which he shouldn't have done.'

  'You mean he basically said Hurry up, I've got a dinner date to get to. I suppose it's just a job to him.'

  'Something like that.'

  'That means Hendricks got off on a technicality.'

  'I suppose so.'

  'What about the other guy?'

  'Him too.'

  Evan stood up and started to pace the small room. Faulkner was still lying back with his eyes closed. He was probably wishing Hendricks had hit him a bit harder.

  'What did your wife think about all this?' Evan said.

  'She thought he was set up. That it was all the other guy's fault - he was seriously unstable, that's for sure. That her brother never actually did anything and he was framed. Everybody had it in for him.'

  It had the sound of a well worn argument. Evan could see that he'd been right about it causing more than a few problems between Faulkner and his wife.

  'Is that possible?'

  'Anything's possible. If you mean: do the police routinely fit people up for crimes they didn't commit? No. Do they make mistakes? All the time.'

  'What did you think? Could he have done it?'

  'Of course he could have - for what it's worth I don't think he actually did. He might be the lowest form of pond life, but he's certainly not stupid.'

  'That's handy for your conscience.'

  Faulkner tried to give him a hard stare, but looked a bit too comical with his head bandaged to pull it off.

  'Let me ask you something, Mr Holier-than-thou. What would you be prepared to do to bring back your wife?'

  'We're not talking about me here.'

  'That's handy for you too.' He picked up the photograph of his wife again and waved it at Evan. ' I didn't want to lose my wife so I went against my better judgement and did what she asked me to do. I put my career on the line because I didn't want to make her life more difficult than it already was.' He dropped the photograph onto the bed again. 'Something tells me you might bend a few rules to get your own wife back.'