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Furious
by
Fashionably Stupid
Chapter Five: The Game of Charm and Strange
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Goren left the reading room, taking a breath and reaching for his cellular phone. He quickly dialed his partner.
"Eames."
"Alex, we've got him."
"Who? Sa-"
"He…calls himself Sam, he says he was a…a friend of Clare's."
"Oh, thank God."
"Yeah," Goren looked back briefly into the room, where Samuel sat with his legs loosely crossed, examining his fingernails, "and he's a real piece o'work."
"I'll be right there."
He quietly clicked the phone off and reentered the reading room.
"My…partner'll be here in a minute…In the meantime, why don't you tell me how you knew Clare."
Sam looked around the stark white room, avoiding the detective's piercing eyes. "She and I were lovers."
"She had…a boyfriend. Adam."
A short, disdainful laugh. "You're kidding, right? That boy…what a joke. Clare was a much more complex creature than that oaf could provide for."
Goren abandoned conversation, arming himself for full interrogation. "She was…crazy. She screamed all the…all the time."
A smirk. "Yeah."
The door opened and closed quickly and Eames strode briskly to the table at the end of the room. Goren smilingly relinquished his chair to his partner, his joints popping slightly as he did so from lack of use. He stretched his long legs slowly pacing a trench in the carpeted floor, considering his suspect.
"You really think I killed her?"
"Yeah." Eames was in no kidding mood. She wanted desperately to nail this little shit with something, and at this point, she really didn't care what. "Yeah, we really do."
Sam's smirk became a smile which swiftly gave way to a loud laugh. "Oh, that would be great. That would be so easy for you, wouldn't it?"
Goren took deep breaths now. His temper was becoming increasingly difficult to control these days. He looked at his partner, calmly staring down their mutual enemy.
"It would be pretty easy, Sam." Eames' voice was steady and harsh. "If you didn't kill her, you know who did, and either way, no matter what you tell us, I'm going to hate you."
Sam blinked slowly, visibly unshaken.
"You know what…I think, Sam?" Goren backed his temper down a notch and lowered his voice to a threatening rumble.
"No, detective. Tell me what you think."
"I don't think you killed her, not directly. You were…waiting for her to do herself in." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a photocopy of Clare's final poem, walked calmly over to Sam and let the paper flutter into the boy's lap. Sam read it with ostentatious disinterest. "See…you knew she was going to kill herself."
"Well, you said yourself she was crazy."
"But I think you're a sick bastard who got tired of what she was giving to you and thought you'd…get your kicks by driving her over the edge. My guess is…you're disappointed someone else got to her before she…got to herself."
Sam lowered his eyes for a moment. When he raised them, his smirk was more pronounced, and his voice had acquired a thick Southern accent.
"You see a lot, detective. But are you willing to turn that…high powered perception at your self? Why don't you look at yourself and write down what you see? Or maybe you're afraid to." The boy shook his head in a motion of pity and laughed coldly, standing and hoisting his backpack on his shoulders. "I just thought I'd let you kids know about me, since you've probably already read those pathetic little poems Clare wrote about me. "If there's nothing further, gentlemen?" He left with a chilling look in Eames' direction.
"I'm sorry, what did I just see?" Eames was angry, but unshaken by Sam's sociopathic display.
Goren, however, was visibly affected. He could only shake his head and breathe out. Eames spoke again, and this time Goren was relieved to hear her steady, feminine voice.
"Well, I don't think he killed her, and I think you're right as to the reasons why. He's a cold-hearted bastard, isn't he?"
"…Yeah."
There was a pause.
"He's…impressive."
Goren watched the face of his partner. Her expression transformed smoothly from one of agreement to one of contemplation to eventually one of revelation.
"Whadoyou say to paying Adam another visit?"
