Fire Point (15 page)

49

They all sat at the long polished mahogany dining table. The Xanax must have made Marcus thirsty because he drained the glass of water his mother had brought him almost immediately. At first no one appeared eager to say anything. It was Teddy who broke the silence.

‘Marcus, you and I haven’t always gotten along. I take my share of responsibility for that.’

As he spoke, Teddy kept sneaking glances at Marcus’s mom. Marcus guessed that this speech was really for her, a way of Teddy showing that he was ‘in touch with his feelings’ and all that other bullshit. Stentz had that far-away shit-eating grin on his face.

Marcus was growing bored. He looked around the table at the four adults. He wondered how they got through the day while resisting the urge to put a gun in their mouth. They were so full of lies and hypocrisy. If his father had really cared about Marcus, then perhaps he’d have tried to serve as some kind of role model. Instead he seemed to be a walking, talking doormat. Teddy covered his weakness with whisky and cheap bravado. As for Stentz, he was what Krank liked to call ‘a shiver in search of a spine to run up’.

Twenty-five minutes had passed and Marcus was still no clearer about what any of them actually wanted from him. It was time for him to do them all a favor and help them get to the point. He spread his hands across the table. ‘Would one of you tell me why you wanted me here? Because I’m no clearer than I was when I arrived. And while we’re at it, why do you have some kind of private detective checking up on my friends?’

That final question got a reaction. There were lots of hurried looks between them. His dad cleared his throat. ‘It’s your friends we’re concerned about. At least, that’s part of it.’

Marcus ran a finger round the rim of the water glass. ‘You didn’t like that I had no friends and now when I do . . . ?’

‘It’s the type of friends you have,’ said Teddy.

Marcus could feel rage building. He had to fight the urge to get up, walk over to Teddy and stick the glass in his bloated, whisky-flushed face. Teddy wasn’t fit to lick Krank’s boots.

‘What type are they, Teddy?’ Marcus said. When he had married his mom, Teddy had tried to get Marcus to call him ‘Dad’. He hated when Marcus called him Teddy.

‘If we can all stay calm,’ said Stentz.

Marcus rounded on him. ‘I was asking him, not you.’

‘Marcus!’ said his mom. ‘Don’t speak to Dr Stentz like that.’

‘Doctor?’ said Marcus. ‘He’s a shrink. He thinks that all the bad things in the world are down to lack of breastfeeding.’ He turned his attention back to Teddy. ‘Come on, Teddy. What don’t you like about my friends?’

‘You want me to be honest, Marcus? Is that it? Can we talk man to man now?’

‘Sure,’ said Marcus. ‘A bit of truth would make a nice change in this family. You want to go chug down some Scotch first?’

Teddy’s jaw tightened. The barb had hit home. ‘You want the truth, son?’

‘That’s what I just said, wasn’t it?’

‘Teddy!’ said Tarian. ‘This is not helpful.’

Teddy waved away her objection. ‘No, Tarian, the kid has a point. There’s been too much pussy-footing around him. Maybe if you’d stopped treating him like such a special snowflake he wouldn’t be like this.’

Marcus couldn’t help but smile. This was way better than the passive-aggressive jibes and usual sarcasm he had to tolerate from his family. ‘So what am I like? I’d love to know.’

‘Perhaps that’s a discussion for another time,’ said Stentz.

Marcus waved him away. ‘I’d say this is exactly the time. What do you think, Teddy?’

Teddy,’ Tarian warned. ‘Please.’

Marcus didn’t take his eyes from his stepfather. ‘Mom, maybe if you’d let one of the men in your life actually have an opinion once in a while rather than cutting off their balls and keeping them in a box, we wouldn’t be here right now. Come on, Teddy, get it off your chest.’

Teddy’s hands were trembling. Either he needed that Scotch, thought Marcus, or he was about to lose it. Perhaps both.

‘Okay, Marcus, you want to know what I think? I’ll tell you. I think that you, just like all the other kids your age, have spent your whole life being told how special and unique you are and now you’re actually convinced that you are. Well, let me tell you, you’re not. You’re just a self-absorbed, selfish little asshole.’

Marcus leaned back in his chair. For the first time since he had walked through the door he was actually enjoying whatever the hell this was. An intervention? Family therapy? A reunion? ‘Well, you’d know all about being self-absorbed, Teddy,’ he said, lacing his fingers behind his head.

‘Oh, I’m not finished yet. That’s only part of your problem,’ Teddy continued. ‘It doesn’t make you unique, it makes you typical. Being a spoilt brat would make you pretty much average, these days. But that’s not enough for you. It’s not enough that you’ve never had to work a day in your life. Or that you have no idea that all the crap you have doesn’t just magically appear. No, even then, you want more.’

‘That’s pretty rich coming from a guy who inherited his fortune,’ said Marcus. He noticed the trace of a smirk creeping across his father’s face. At least his real dad had actually made his own fortune – for all the good it had done him.

‘Hey, I had to go work for my family’s company from the time I was eighteen. But you think what you like about me. That’s fine.’ Teddy’s face was red. Marcus had hit a nerve.

‘So, what else you got?’ Marcus asked. ‘I’m spoilt. Is that it?’

‘Like I said,’ Teddy went on, ‘that would just make you average for your generation. But that’s not why we’re here.’

‘Finally,’ said Marcus. He glanced around the table. ‘So you’re not here because you’re worried about me?’

Both Stentz and his dad began to interrupt but Teddy cut them off. ‘No, Marcus,’ he said. ‘We’re not worried about you. We’re worried about what you’ve been doing, you sick little fuck.’ Teddy put his hands, palms down, on the table, and levered himself to his feet. ‘That girl you were stalking at USC not enough for you, huh? Leaving creepy messages for her and following her around campus not enough to get you off?’

Marcus could feel his enjoyment drain away. What was Teddy talking about? What did they know? What had Teddy meant when he said that stalking hadn’t been enough for him?

He had to focus, he told himself. What was he here for? Krank needed that information about the private security guy. ‘That why you hired that private security asshole Lock and his buddy? To check up on me? So what’s he been telling you?’

Teddy just glared at him. Marcus looked at his mom. ‘Someone want to tell me? Or am I just supposed to sit here and be accused of all kinds of stuff without any evidence?’

Mention of the word ‘evidence’ seemed to clear the air from the room. Both his dad and Stentz stared at the table top. His mom brushed a tear away with the back of her hand.

‘Oh, we have evidence, Marcus. But we didn’t need anyone snooping around to find out. You left it all right here,’ said Teddy. ‘Go get it, Tarian. Show him what you found in his closet.’

The room seemed to spin around Marcus. He knew what Teddy was talking about as soon as he’d said it. The T-shirt. He’d been in his room and his mom had knocked. He’d thrown it in the back of the closet so she didn’t see it. She’d walked in, they’d argued, and he’d forgotten all about. He hadn’t gone back for it. The blood belonged to the girl. He’d had to move her body outside so that they could bury it. There had been blood. Not a huge amount, but enough to soak into his T-shirt. Krank had told him to burn it, but he’d held on to it. It was a trophy. A reminder of what he could do. Of the red-pill man he had become. Old Marcus would never have been able to touch a dead body, never mind bury one.

‘Not too cocky now, are you?’ Teddy said.

His heart beating out of his chest, Marcus tried to find some words. He had none. Teddy was right. What confidence he’d had was gone. He had screwed up. Even if the others wouldn’t call the cops, Teddy sure as hell would. He’d throw Marcus to the wolves without a moment’s hesitation. Krank, Gretchen and Loser would be arrested too. Their lives would be over. They be spared the death penalty because it was California, but they’d get life without parole. And for what? Marcus asked himself. Krank had wanted to make a stand, go out in a blaze of glory that would set down a marker for those who came after. Instead they’d be hung out to dry for some dumb initiation ceremony. He had to think of something, and quickly.

‘There was a car wreck,’ he said finally. His dad and Stentz looked up from the table.

Teddy’s mouth twisted into a sneer. ‘Bullshit there was.’

‘It’s true,’ said Marcus, addressing his mom. ‘I’d been drinking. That’s why I didn’t want to tell anyone.’

He could tell from the look on her face that his mom wanted to believe him. Maybe he’d be able to dig himself out of this, after all. ‘It’s your blood?’ she asked.

‘Look at him,’ sneered Teddy. ‘There’s not a mark on the kid. Show us this injury then, Marcus.’

‘It wasn’t my blood,’ Marcus said. He could feel his confidence returning. One of Krank’s early lessons had involved what he called ‘setting the other person’s frame’. It was something that came from neuro-linguistic programming but what it boiled down to was having confidence in what you were telling someone. People created their own reality. If your reality was stronger than theirs you could bring them into line.

Krank had demonstrated it over and over again in front of Marcus. He didn’t just use it to get girls, it was integral to how he lived his life. His frame was stronger than everyone’s – apart, maybe, from Gretchen’s. Now all Marcus had to do was create a frame, a story, that was stronger than everyone else’s. A big part of that was allowing people to hear what they wanted. Teddy might have wanted to see him shoved into the back of a cop car, but the other three, for their own selfish reasons, didn’t. He would use that.

‘So whose blood was it?’ said Teddy.

‘Let him speak,’ said his mom. ‘Marcus?’

‘It was my fault, okay? I’d been drinking and I got into my car. I didn’t even see them until it was too late. I rear-ended the other car. I got out. There was a girl in the front. She was bleeding pretty bad and I could smell gas. I was scared in case the whole thing went up so I got her out and moved her to the side of the road. Then I dialed nine-one-one and split. I should have stayed, but I was scared.’

As Marcus spoke, the story took on a reality in his own mind. He could see the sudden flash of red as he looked at the car in front of him. He could feel the shudder of the impact. The gasoline smell, mixed with the metallic tang of blood, was real.

Teddy was looking at the others in disbelief. ‘Oh, come on. You don’t actually believe this crap, do you?’ The others didn’t say anything. ‘Okay, so where’s this damage to your car? Show me that and I might start to buy into this.’

‘It would explain the blood,’ said Stentz. ‘I can understand someone panicking under the circumstances. Not that I endorse your behavior, Marcus.’

Marcus ignored Stentz and focused on Teddy. ‘I took it to a shop. They repaired it and I paid the guy another five hundred bucks not to say anything if anyone came round asking about it. But, hey, don’t believe me. I already know what you think of me, Teddy.’

The room was turning against Teddy and he knew it as well as Marcus did. ‘That’s right. I don’t believe you, son.’

A cell phone trilled in another room. It had been ringing on and off for the past ten minutes. Everyone had ignored it per Stentz’s rules. ‘That’s mine,’ said Tarian. ‘I’ll just check, okay? It might be the kids wanting to say goodnight.’ She stopped in the doorway. ‘Teddy, don’t say anything, please, for my sake.’

50

‘I got her,’ said Ty, handing his cell phone to Lock. Ahead of them was the same wall of metal, vehicles bumper to bumper. If anything, the traffic seemed to have gotten worse in the past few minutes. It had taken them five minutes to move a half-block.

Lock took the cell. ‘Tarian, it’s Ryan.’

‘Ryan, sorry I didn’t answer before. Marcus is here and it’s been a little tense.’

Lock hit the mute button. ‘He’s there,’ he told Ty. He cancelled the mute, and said, ‘Is anyone else with him?’

‘No, he’s alone,’ said Tarian. ‘Why?’

‘Okay, that’s good. I need you to listen carefully. But don’t react to what I’m about to tell you. Just act like this is a perfectly normal conversation and that everything’s fine,’ Lock told her.

She hesitated. To his relief she had seemed fine when she’d answered. Now he could almost hear her deflate. It left him feeling bad that he had to be the bearer of bad news. His reaction made him uncomfortable. She was a client. This was business. And yet . . . ‘Okay. I can do that,’ said Tarian.

A gap opened up in the lane next to them. Lock ducked into it so he was on the outside. A few cars ahead, a Ford Bronco pulled a U-turn in front of some light oncoming traffic. Its move prompted another driver further back to pull the same stunt. Presumably they were heading back to the freeway to see if that had cleared.

Lock took a deep breath. ‘Who else is there with you?’

‘Teddy, Peter, and Marcus’s therapist, Dr Stentz. We thought that if we all sat down with him and told him how worried we were about his recent behavior . . .’

Jesus, thought Lock, only in California. He wasn’t going to tell Tarian this now but Marcus was already way beyond being helped by a touchy-feely love-in, though maybe the shrink would make for a decent defense witness when it came to the sentencing.

‘What about the kids?’ Lock asked.

‘Staying with Teddy’s cousin, Sylvia,’ said Tarian.

‘Okay, that’s good,’ said Lock. ‘Ty and I are on our way. Now, I want you to keep Marcus there. Make sure he doesn’t leave. Take his car keys from him if you have to.’

There was a long silence at the other end of the line.

‘Tarian? You still there?’

‘His car isn’t here,’ said Tarian.

Lock already knew what she was thinking. In LA, and especially in a neighborhood like Brentwood, public transport was for the help. A kid like Marcus had probably never been on a bus in his life.

‘Did someone drop him off?’ Lock asked.

‘Not that I saw,’ said Tarian.

‘Are you sure?’ Lock asked. ‘You haven’t seen anyone?’

‘He probably isn’t comfortable driving right now. That’ll be it. He must have taken a cab.’

‘Why doesn’t he want to drive?’ Lock asked. ‘What do you mean he’s not comfortable driving?’

She lowered her voice. ‘He just told us he was in an accident a week or so ago. He’d been drinking and he rear-ended this woman. I’d found something in his closet. One of his T-shirts. It had blood all over it. When we confronted him he told us about the accident.’

I bet he did, thought Lock. But now wasn’t the time to challenge Marcus’s story. He and Ty could do that when they got there – if they ever did.

Tarian went on: ‘He’ll have to speak to the police, of course, come clean, but with a good attorney . . .’

‘Okay, Tarian, just give me a yes or no answer. Did you see a cab drop Marcus off?’

‘Well, no, but how else would he . . .’ She trailed off. ‘These friends of his. What did they do exactly?’

Lock leaned out of the window of the Audi. There had to be a wreck up ahead because the only people moving were those who were turning round and driving back in the other direction. ‘That doesn’t matter right now. In fact, forget I said it. Like I said, we’re on our way. Here’s what I want you to do. Take it easy on Marcus. Don’t confront him. Don’t challenge him. And whatever you do don’t open your front door unless you see us outside.’

‘Ryan, what is it? What’s going on?’

‘Just follow my instructions for now. Marcus is going to need an attorney. The best you can afford, which I’d imagine is someone who’s pretty good. But that’s for tomorrow. Right now just have everyone stay cool and wait until we get there.’