Succubus Tear (Triune promise) (20 page)

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Authors: Andreas Wiesemann

BOOK: Succubus Tear (Triune promise)
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—Walter Stratton

 

“So, Mister Lamentson, how long have you been living at the Gabel Apartments, and what was in that message you sent on your phone?”

Cain scoffed; he had spent
hours
in the bland examination room. It had harsh fluorescents, metal folding chairs, and a long card table, and smelled like it hadn’t been cleaned in weeks. He’d already given them his full name, occupation, and address, and even handed over his driver’s license, fully satisfying all legal obligations. He had no other desire to speak, so he didn’t.

“Mister Lamentson, you do realize that you could be charged with obstruction of justice if you refuse to answer our questions?”

“No I won’t.”

“And how would you know that? Are you a cop? Have you been in trouble with the law before? We can pull your record, you know, and if—”

Cain groaned and wished they would have taken the cuffs off if he had to listen to this drivel.
Goddamn, this shit’s even worse than when it is on TV
! He wished he hadn’t given Charlie the second sandwich Al’bah had made, as his stomach started to growl.

“Sounds like someone’s hungry. How about you answer our questions and we’ll get something ordered for you?”

The voices faded as he concentrated on shutting out the world.

“Mister Lamentson, I’ve just been informed that your girlfriend is here.”

Cain jerked his face to the cop who had spoken. “What? She’s here? Please, let me speak to her.”

“Maybe, after you answer our questions.”

The surge of adrenaline wore off as he bored his gaze into the cop’s shifty eyes. “What color are her eyes?”

“What? I didn’t bother to look. Why would that be important?”

Cain balled his fists so tight, his hands from his wrists to his fingertips became a stark white color. “You fucking liars!” he said, feeling spittle starting to foam inside his mouth. “I got nothing to say to any of you anymore. Fuck you!”

“I’ll tell her you said that,” the cop said as he walked out the door.

Cain settled back into his seat, wishing he could think beyond the hunger that plagued his belly; Al’bah had promised a surprise for dinner and apple pie for dessert. But now he was starving, and his freedom had been taken by pricks who sought only a scapegoat, versus justice.

At least I have Charlie. If I lose everything else, I have him
.

 

***

 

“Would you like another?”

Charlie opened his eyes; he had been chewing on the second roast beef sandwich Al’bah had packed for Cain. Never in his entire life had he tasted something so savory. If her cooking was this good, she just might have to stick around for a long time. Shoot, he even began to wonder if Al’bah had a sister.

“Ah, yes. Thank you,” Charlie said once he swallowed. “Hey, thanks for letting me bring this in.”

The bartender smiled. “Hennessey, right?”

Charlie nodded and took another bite, vocalizing the absolute delight he got from the taste, texture, and overall goodness that the sandwich had. “You know what?” Charlie muttered to himself. “I’m gonna make something for her. Maybe a silver hair comb. Yeah, that’s the ticket.”

Several people stared as
he took another bite. “Whuf?” Charlie said around a mouthful. They turned back around, and Charlie sighed as he chewed, taking in the pub’s atmosphere. Rich faux wood paneling, polished cedar bar. Dark, smoky ambience, and live soft jazz floating with the cigar smoke from the rather higher-end clientele. Strictly speaking, Charlie shouldn’t have even gotten through the front door. His blue jean, T-shirt, and leather jacket attire was well below dress code.

He winked as the bartender (and daughter of the owner) brought him another Hennessey. Screw dress codes! Style was a crutch for those who didn’t have charm.

His phone chimed, signifying he received something. He picked up his cell and opened a video message from Cain.

“Holy shit!”

 

15 Minutes Later

Charlie strolled right up to the news crew that had encamped at the Gabel Apartments. “Hey, sexy lady,” Charlie said, walking right up to a blonde reporter’s personal space.

She glared over at him and spoke to one of the larger men in the news crew. “Gerald, can you get this Asian prick outta my face?”

“Right, Missus Waters. Okay, buddy, you need to step back for a moment and—”

Charlie grabbed the hand Gerald placed on his shoulder and bent it fiercely to the side, and with a gentle maneuver that used Gerald’s momentum, he tossed him to the ground. “I said, ‘Hey, sexy lady.’ I didn’t ask for a romantic interlude, you know. What’s wrong? The cops won’t let you get any closer?” Charlie said with a warm smile, glancing over at the “
Do Not Cross” tape and the cops that stood idly by while others unloaded something from Cain’s apartment.

“And what of it? You got something to say?” the reporter said as she stepped in front of a now furious Gerald.

“First, I’ll need your phone number,” Charlie said as he ran his hand through his hair.

“Gerald, don’t bother with this one. Just get one of those cops to get rid of him.”

Charlie grinned; people could always be so predictable. “Okay, just thought this might be of interest to you.” He flipped out his phone and replayed Cain’s message.

The entire news crew that had edged closer was now spellbound by the video Cain had sent to Charlie. “So, I guess I’ll just go now. I mean, who wants to mess around with the cops? No sense of humor.” Charlie clicked off the phone just as some of the crew was getting their cameras ready.

The entire news crew seemed to burst forth with a single word. “
Wait!

Charlie turned back. “Now, now. My phone is a little shy.” He placed his hands in his pockets and gestured slightly with his head to the blonde reporter to come closer. “Say, what’s your name, anyway?”

“Caitlyn.”

“Ah, an old Gaelic name that means ‘pure,’” Charlie said while nodding. “And Waters is self-explanatory.” Charlie sighed upon noticing her wedding band. “Ahem, well the man who sent me this message is my friend. He needs my help, and I’ll just bet going to the police with this will just ensure my arrest, and the loss of my phone.” He retrieved his cell from his pocket. “Now, what did you say your number was again?”

Caitlyn stepped forward and whispered into Charlie’s ear as he grinned and tapped in the number.

“Excellent. The message is set for a twelve-hour delay,” he said as he walked off.

“What?”

Charlie shrugged and turned around. “My friend’s name is Cain Lamentson, and he works with me at Carlton Construction. I am just one of many witnesses that can verify his whereabouts for days.” He winked. “But if I just give you the message without the media confirming everything I said, those cops are gonna backpedal and find some way and some reason to keep my friend locked up. But if they go out and say they made an arrest to someone connected with this shit, and
then
the media comes forth with everything I said, well, let’s just say my friend won’t have to worry about dropping the soap.”

 

***

 

4:59 p.m.

 
Ever since the first round of questioning was over, the police had little to ask, and Cain had little to say. As far as they were concerned, he was an open-and-shut case. However, because of the amount of press his arrest generated, he was informed, like it or not, that a lawyer was coming to speak to him.

The door opened, and Walter Stratton walked in. Cain could almost hear the tendons in his neck creak and his eyeballs move in their sockets as he followed his movements to the chair across the desk where he sat now. With an almost absurd yet fluid motion, Walter sat down.

 

5:00 p.m.

“Well, Mister Lamentson, I am glad we were able to keep our little appointment,” Walter said while taking off his sunglasses and placing them on the table. He rubbed his eyes slightly and turned them to Cain. His eyes were a gray so cold, they reminded him of a window covered in frost. “I suppose I don’t need to go over the details of your charges.” Walter sighed dispassionately. “By this time tomorrow, hardly anyone will have to, considering you made headlines across the nation.” 

“Maybe I would like a different lawyer,” Cain said through gritted teeth and forced his hands painfully against his cuffs to fight the urge to shiver. This had to have been Taint’s doing; there was no other explanation. His words rang clear again in his ears.

 “
My agents now come for you, and what is mine!”

 
“By all means!” Walter said, starting to get up. “I imagine that any high-profile lawyer would want your case. It is going to make just about anyone an instant celebrity.” He picked up his sunglasses and held them for a moment. “But I doubt that anyone could broker a 
deal
 that our law firm could. Why, I 
all
but guarantee it.”

His vision went red. They had Al’bah. He jumped up and reached both hands out for Walter’s neck, meaning to choke the life out of him. Walter, never losing that soft smile, grabbed the metal hinge that connected his cuffs.

“Amusing,” he muttered and grabbed Cain’s throat with impossibly slow and deliberate motions.

The strength coming from Walter was supernatural, although outwardly it appeared there was no force coming from him. Cain struggled to breathe, to escape. He felt as though he was caught in a machine, for all the strength that was in those two hands that held him back.

Suddenly the door flew open again, and two cops rushed in. “No worries, boys, the kid here just wanted to blow some steam,” Walter said with a grin and a lot of humor in his voice.

They retreated reluctantly and closed the door. Cain’s vision was getting narrow, almost giving entirely into darkness.

“And there,” Walter said, letting go.

Cain struggled to catch his breath, coughing and wheezing. The darkness that was invading his vision turned red and pulsed with his heartbeat.

“Now,” Walter said, his face full of amusement, “I am all for violence being the answer, but it is the answer for those who are actually good at it. Or at least for those who have the power.” He looked at his hands, almost admiring them.

“The hell you want to help me for?” Cain rasped out. “You already have—”

“Cain,” Walter said, drawing close and lowering his voice. “By this time tomorrow, the whole nation can watch you, the innocent victim, framed by a real drug dealer, set free. Or you can be the sensation of the media and be in prison in time for Christmas.” He slid a piece of paper across the table with a pen. “All you have to do is voluntarily forfeit that which is not yours.”

Cain thought hard for a moment.
 
They have Al’bah! But something is preventing them from obtaining what they want. They need me to sign this document! They are willing to do anything to— 

He slid the paper back across the table. “No.”

Walter put on his sunglasses and straightened his suit. “I will relay your decision to my superiors.” He reached for the paper and started to put it in his briefcase. He frowned and set it back on the table. “Perhaps you might change your mind. You never know,” he muttered as he got up to leave.

Cain felt so cold as Walter turned away and the door closed with a hollow bang, and left him in silence.

A terrible crawling sensation raged in the pit of his stomach.

How dare they touch her! How dare they take her from me! FROM ME!
 He seethed, almost choking on his own saliva. His imagination ran rampant, envisioning the tortures she had endured at the hands of Taint, to the thought of her being touched by…by…


FUCK!
” Cain screamed, slamming his fists on the table and screaming over and over again. The door opened again and four cops burst in, including the fat one that Al’bah had seen and commented on when they visited the mall. Knowing that they were looking for any excuse, Cain forced himself to lie on the floor before they could get close enough to do anything to him.

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