Gaby, Jimmy Duran, Frank Kelly, Gunn, Kane, Quinn, Pamela, and Dennis Myers are mine.
Rated PG-13 : Harsh language; strong sexuality; violence; mature themes including child abuse and prostitution.
As ever, please review.
Eric walked through his office door and froze, just for a moment. He had his second unexpected visitor in two days. Gaby was sitting in his chair. She stared at him without a smile, and without getting up.
"Gaby," he said after a few moments.
"Eric. How are you?"
"I'm all right," he said cautiously. "How are you?"
Her brows lifted. "Great. I heard your father was arrested last night."
"Yeah..." He took a restless couple of steps toward the window. "He showed up at my house. Wanted me to help him get out of town."
"What?"
"Asked me for money."
"Jesus. You're kidding."
To his own surprise, he smiled. "No, I'm not kidding. He was there. And that's what he said."
"So? What happened?"
"I turned him over to the cops. They're going to question him in a few hours."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
"I don't suppose you want to talk about it."
"Not really." He turned to face her. "What are you doing here?"
"I decided this was the only way I'd ever get to see you again," she said. "You're always busy, or on your way somewhere."
"I've had a lot to do."
"Is that why you haven't returned my calls?"
"I've had a lot on my mind."
She stood up. "I know. I've been worried about you. You could at least have left a message. Let me know you're all right."
He sighed. "I'm..."
"Don't tell me. You're fine."
"I'm sorry..."
"Don't be sorry. Be honest. If you're not interested anymore -- if you don't want to see me anymore -- that's okay, but at least tell me about it."
He stared for a second. "It's only been a day, for Christsake."
"I guess I'm insecure."
"And it's got nothing to do with not wanting to see you."
"Then what is it? Why are you avoiding me like this?"
"Why do you want to be with me?"
Her eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
He looked away from her. "After what happened the other morning, why would you want to be around me?"
"Because I..." She paused, as he looked back at her face. "I care about you. Don't you know that by now?"
He took a moment to answer. "And I care about you, too. That's why I don't think it's a good idea for us to see each other right now."
"What are you talking about?"
"You know what happened the last time!" He turned away. "I really lost it. Couldn't stop myself. Yelled at you. Said things..."
"You're under a lot of pressure. I understand."
With an uncomfortable glance he said, "You were afraid of me."
"Well -- maybe for a second. I'm sorry."
He gave a short, bitter laugh. "You're apologizing to me?"
"Yeah, I am!" she said defiantly.
They were quiet for a moment, staring at each other, Gaby smiling slightly. "I would never -- hurt you," Eric said quietly, hoping it was true.
"I know."
"When this is over..."
"No. You need to relax a little. Try to forget about -- things..." She came close and reached a hand to the side of his face, trailing her fingers down to his chest. "Let's go out tonight. We can have dinner, or whatever you want."
"Gaby, you don't understand. I don't know if... I might act the same way again."
"I trust you."
"I'd be lousy company."
"That doesn't matter."
He smiled reluctantly. "Okay. I give up. I'll pick you up tonight."
"Great." She gave him a quick hug. "I've got to get back to work. See you tonight."
As she smiled up at him, he raised his hands to hold her face between them and kiss her lingeringly. Then, with a last smiling glance, she was gone. Eric watched her leave, a sense of loss beginning to descend on him again, despite her words and the look on her face. Sooner or later, she would start to get tired of him, to lose patience with his moods and his temper, to figure out it wasn't working, that she would be better off with someone else.
Paranoid. He shook himself mentally. Always so suspicious, always so hard to trust anyone. He knew most of it was in his own head. But how much? How much was just realism? His own mother had left him... had never loved him... had run around with every man who came along, never faithful to anyone, even the man she supposedly loved.
It had gotten worse after his grandmother died, much worse. His mother had seemed to give up on any kind of normal life. There had been more drinking, more men, constant worry about money. He realized now that was probably when she did what his father had so cruelly suggested, and started charging for it...
He had started spending most of his time in his room, had started leaving the radio on, night and day, trying not to hear the sounds that came from his mother's room when she brought men home. He hated seeing them, the men, hated the way they looked at him, sometimes friendly and sympathetic, sometimes irritated and impatient, a few of them smiling with a predatory edge that made his skin crawl. It was quiet now. There was a man with her tonight, but he knew from experience they probably wouldn't come out anytime soon, and he was hungry.
As he came out of the kitchen, he heard it. Not the sounds he usually heard, but the sharp impact of a slap, and his mother crying out, and a male voice saying something angry. Slowly he moved closer to the door, listening. The voices went on, both of them furious, starting to shout. There was the sound of another blow, another cry.
Without thinking, he leaped at the door, throwing it open. They were beside the bed, in their underwear, struggling. They both looked up, startled for a moment, the man -- tall, heavy, with stringy dirty blond hair -- holding his mother by the arm, his fingers digging in, his other hand already raised for another slap.
"Leave my mom alone!" Eric shouted, and ran at him, swinging an ineffectual punch.
The man let go of her and turned on Eric, grabbing his arm and dragging him onto the bed, pinning him. He laughed. "What's this little shit doing? Think you're a tough guy, do you?" His hand rose and fell, hitting Eric across the face. "I'll do what I want, kid! You can't stop me!" With a yank, he pulled Eric off, to fall on the floor.
"Get out!" Pamela screamed. She threw herself at the man. "You bastard! Get out!"
With a snarl, he swung at her, knocking her flat onto the floor. He stood watching her for a moment, and then began to pick up his clothes. He turned back to her. "I'm never coming back here, bitch!"
"Good! Just get out!" she cried as she climbed to her feet.
Eric had gotten to his feet, too. Still blinded by fury, he kicked the man in the leg as he started out. With a howl of rage and pain, the man backhanded him, sending him crashing against the wall, to fall to the floor, his head spinning. He dimly heard the front door slam.
"Eric? Are you all right?" His mother was bending over him, her face showing unaccustomed concern.
He nodded and sat up, pressing a hand to his mouth. It came away bloody. He looked up at her. "Why did that man hit you?"
She laughed, with something not entirely sane in her voice. It frightened him. "I don't know. I guess he just liked it. They all like to hurt me..." The next moment her expression was angry. "Didn't I tell you to stay out of my room when I have a guest? Now look what you did!"
"I tried to help you..."
"All you did was make him angrier. Did you think you could fight a guy like that? How stupid can you be?"
He pushed her hands away and struggled back to his feet. "Sorry. I won't do it any more."
"I can fix that cut for you."
"No." He turned away from her. "I'm fine."
Jen crossed her arms and frowned, watching Jimmy work. She had seen him do this before, and knew how good he was, how he always seemed to know what questions to ask and how to ask them, how to tell if someone was telling the truth. She was determined to learn from him.
Her eyes rested on the subject of their interrogation. Dennis Myers. An ordinary looking man, but what Wes had told her about him made her look more closely for the monster of Eric's childhood. For a moment she tried to find a resemblance to Eric, before remembering they had no blood relationship. There was an emotional relationship, though. She knew enough psychology to know Eric had gotten many of his first lessons in how to live his life from this man. Silently she was thankful that he seemed not to have followed that example.
Frank Kelly was also present, still assisting, standing back like Jen, and watching, staring at Myers, an uncharacteristically grim expression on his face. He had become very intense, very involved. Jen wondered how much was concern for justice and how much was his desire to make his mark in an important case. But it hardly mattered, she decided. They needed all the help they could get.
She gave a quick glance to the one-way mirror on one wall. Behind it, she knew, Wes and Eric were watching. If it was up to Wes, he would have been in the room with them, but Jimmy felt he was too closely involved, and Jen had reluctantly had to back him up, adding to the reasons Wes had to be irritated with her. He hadn't looked happy when he went into the viewing room.
Eric had arrived just as they were about to start. He had wanted to join in the questioning, but Jimmy had vetoed that idea too. Jen couldn't blame him. Eric was too consumed by hatred of his father to be useful, although he said all he wanted was to get at the truth, and Jen believed him. There simply was too much chance that his temper would take over.
"Why are you in Silver Hills?" Jimmy asked, his voice deceptively mild.
Myers shifted a little in his chair, nervously. "Just passing through."
"What were you doing in the Wells hotel?"
"Gotta stay somewhere." He made a pathetic attempt at a smile.
"Why did you call Alan Collins?"
Myers squirmed, licking his lips. He glanced at Frank, who stared back stonily. "I -- I met him before. At -- a bar. He was in San Francisco, on a business trip."
"So, you just called him. Why did you ask him to meet you?"
"I thought we could get together. Have some fun."
"What kind of fun?"
He smiled slyly, seeming more at ease. "The kind Pammy specialized in."
"You mean hookers."
"Yeah. You know how it is."
In the small, darkened room behind the one-way mirror, Wes made a sound of disgust. "He's so full of shit. My dad would never do something like that."
"Maybe." Eric stood next to him, his face blank and controlled.
"What do you mean, maybe? Do you think he would?"
"I don't know. We'd all like to think our parents are perfect..." His eyes were distant for a moment. "Your father's just a man. Only human." He glanced at Wes, his face softening into something that was almost a smile. "But I don't think so. And I'm sure my father's lying."
"Do you think he really met Dad before?"
"I doubt that too. They don't exactly travel in the same circles."
"Then -- why did he call him? And what was he doing here?"
Eric shrugged. "They're still asking questions. Maybe we'll find out. All I know right now is -- I'm sure he's lying."
"Yeah, I know how it is. We're both men. A couple of guys get together, they want to meet a couple of girls..."
"Yeah, right."
"So what went wrong?"
Myers hesitated, shooting another nervous glance at Frank. "I -- he took a liking to Pammy -- they went in the other room -- that's all I know."
"She had girls working for her. Why was she there herself? Didn't Collins want someone younger?"
Myers fidgeted. "Pammy was still a good-looking woman -- they don't always go for young. Maybe she liked him. I don't know."
"Wasn't there a girl for you?"
"Nah -- I had a few drinks too many -- kind of lost interest, you know what I mean."
"So, while your wife was being murdered, you were sleeping it off?"
"Yeah, I guess."
Jimmy leaned toward him, his voice becoming understanding. "But -- didn't it bother you that your wife was banging another guy, right down the hall? Practically right in front of you?"
Myers smiled briefly. "It's not like it was the first time. Besides, we weren't married any more. We weren't really together. Not like that."
Wes felt his face redden with fury and embarrassment. "He's still lying. He must be. I'm sure Dad wouldn't have gone with that..." He cut off his own words and glanced uncomfortably at Eric, seeing his jaw clench.
"Might as well just say it, Wes. Whore."
"I'm sorry. I would never say that."
"Why not? It's true. I used to see the men she brought home. Used to hear them..." Eric's voice filled with anger and pain, his face tightening in the dim light. Then he took a deep breath and returned to the blankness of before.
"Why don't we stop playing games, and listening to fairy tales? Pamela was hit on the head in your hotel room, the one you were supposedly sleeping in. Then she was taken to the room she and Collins were found in. At that point she wasn't in any shape to think about sex. What really happened?" Jimmy had moved in, his voice hard and sharp now.
"No -- I told you the truth..."
"You've been lying all along. What was the deal? What were you after?"
"I met him, just to have a couple of drinks, like I told you..."
"Bullshit. Collins didn't take time out of his schedule to have a couple of drinks with a bum like you."
"He did... And then he and Pammy went off... I was drunk, I don't know what happened."
"Not too drunk to call 911."
"I -- I didn't call them..."
"Yes, you did. We have your fingerprints on the phone and the coin you used."
"I don't want to answer any more questions!"
"Who else was there? Who are you afraid of? Who did you ask your son to protect you from?"
Myers stiffened, his eyes flickering again to where Jen and Frank stood. He looked frightened. "No one. I just made that up."
"Why?"
"I want a lawyer. I'm not saying anything else." He crossed his arms and shut his mouth firmly.
They met in the hallway, Jen following Jimmy and Frank out, seeing Wes and Eric emerge from the viewing room.
"What do you think?" Wes asked Eric. "Is he lying now? Or did he lie to you, before?"
"I think he's afraid of someone." Eric's brows creased thoughtfully. "There's someone else involved."
"My dad said he remembers two men's voices, arguing. There must have been someone else there."
"Yes. But my father thinks he'll kill him if he talks. I'm sure of it," Eric said.
"But -- he's in custody. He's safe with us."
"Maybe. Obviously he doesn't feel safe."
"We'll get it out of him," Frank said, his eyes hard. "Sooner or later."
"Not as long as he's lawyered up. But maybe if he gets scared enough, he'll talk," Jimmy said.
"And meanwhile, we can take another look at the evidence. Maybe something'll show up," Jen added.
