Cruel Comfort (Evan Buckley Thrillers Book 1) (18 page)

Evan opened up his office and fired
up his computer. Jacobson prowled around impatiently.

'That thing looks like you need a
handle to crank it. I think we could walk to Audrey's place and ask her
quicker.'

Evan ignored him and checked his
email. Spam, spam and more spam, but then, there it was. She'd sent it just
after Evan left her. If he'd known she'd be that quick he'd have waited and had
another piece of cake. He opened it and called Jacobson over and then opened
the attachment.

Audrey had got hold of a photograph
of Saunders at his army basic training graduation ceremony. It was old and
grainy and looked like it had been scanned from a local paper.

They both looked at the picture of
the proud young man in his Class A uniform. Little did he know that a few short
years later he'd be out on his ear, with a dishonorable discharge on his
record.

'It's him,' Evan whispered. 'I'm
sure it's him.'

'I don't know what Hendricks looks
like,' Jacobson said.

'He looks like that.' Evan jabbed
his finger at the screen.

'I don't know how you can tell. His
cap covers half his face. Try zooming in a bit.'

Evan zoomed in on Saunders' face but
it didn't really help. What they gained in size, they lost in quality. He
zoomed back out again.

'You need to get a photo of
Hendricks to compare it to,' Jacobson said.

'I don't need one. I recognize his
nose,' Evan said. 'It's been broken and badly set at some time in the past.
He's also got a scar across the bridge of his nose. You can't see it because of
the shadow from his cap.'

'You're the expert on broken noses.
What are you going to do?'

'First of all, I'm going to ask
Audrey if she can get any better photos, and then I'm going to ring the
hospital and see if Faulkner's awake yet.'

'And if he is?'

'I'm going to take that photo' - he
pointed at the screen - 'and this one' - he got the one he'd taken from
Faulkner's trailer out of his pocket - 'and see if I can shake something
loose.'

'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.'

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.'