A/N: Happy New Year!
Chapter 3: Something Shifty This Way Comes
EPOV
1 day. 24 hours. 1440 minutes. 86,400 seconds. That's how long she'd been gone. Sleep was a nice concept and something that everyone kept telling me that I needed.
Fuck them.
What I needed was my little girl back, what I got was a bunch of incompetent halfwits wasting lead after lead. I had absolutely zero faith in the Shreveport PD and I think I was almost arrested about 15 different times.
The surveillance video was very good, the police were able to get the tag on the SUV that had taken Pam and the Stackhouse woman and they were even able to get a photo of the motherfucker who took them. Though it was pretty grainy, you could still make out some very distinct features on the asshole. Hair color, build, and we were even able to see a facial mark of some kind though we couldn't tell if it was a mole, acne, skin tag, or tattoo. It was still helpful.
Unfortunately, the idiot police wasted so much time tracking down the SUV, that by the time they located it, it had been abandoned on the side of a desolate road on route 3 about 35 miles north of Shreveport. When the police told me that, I felt a burning rage throughout my entire body. I was both simultaneously terrified that they were going to find my baby's body out in the woods, and pissed that the fucking cops had taken so much time tracking down the van. I wasn't an idiot, I knew that the more time that passed, the less likely we were to find wither of them alive.
The police had notified Ms. Stackhouse's next of kin, which was her brother. Apparently Ms. Stackhouse didn't have any family other than her brother. Jason Stackhouse didn't strike me as the kind of brother that was heavily involved in his sister's life as he didn't really know too many details to provide to the cops. The last photo he was even able to provide was her High School graduation picture which was four years old. He did however call in her boyfriend, Bill Compton.
The cops wanted to have a meeting with all of us to brief us of any developments. As I walked into the makeshift command center which was really just a conference room at the police department, I noticed several uniformed officers already seated along with Jason Stackhouse whom I had met earlier. I made my way to greet him and the gentleman standing next to him.
"Jason." I shook his hand and nodded solemnly.
"Eric." He greeted with equal somberness. "This is Sook's boyfriend, Bill Compton." Jason introduced and I shook Bill's hand and gave the same somber nod that I gave Jason.
Having absolutely no knowledge of Ms. Stackhouse's life or relationship with Bill, I couldn't help but think that he just wasn't all that broken up about her disappearance. I couldn't peg down what it was exactly, but when I looked at Jason's expression and my own in the mirror, we both had a similar sadness about us. I guess it was something that only someone in my position would notice, but Bill didn't wear that same expression. He looked anxious. I guess I could understand the anxiety, perhaps he just wanted to get her back, but still I couldn't help but feel that that wasn't quite it.
The detective heading up the investigation, Detective Washington, called everyone to order and asked us to take a seat; Jason, Bill and I sat closest to the detective. At that point, I had very little respect for the detective or anyone on the Shreveport PD for that matter.
"Mornin' everyone." He started. He looked like he had as much sleep as I did, which is to say none at all.
"We've had some developments over the last hour and I wanted to bring everyone abreast of them." He stated, looking proud of himself for using the word abreast. I clenched my teeth suppressing the string of curses that threatened to burst from my mouth. This guy was completely useless.
"We know that the identity of the owner of the white SUV that was used in the abduction. We also know that the plates are registered to a New Orleans man by the name of Fintan Brigant." He said pausing to drink a sip of coffee. I couldn't seem to stop my leg from bouncing over and over. I wanted him to get to the fucking point already. I looked over in Jason's direction and noticed that he looked to be contemplating something.
My attention, however, was brought back to the incompetent Detective Washington as he continued the briefing.
"The department of Motor vehicles report that the man, Fintan Brigant, lived in New Orleans. As a result, the NOPD went to his home to question the man about the SUV and his whereabouts during abduction. When officers arrived, they discovered…" He stopped to take another sip of coffee. He seemed to be very uneasy and he gulped audibly before finishing his thought. "Well, they discovered body parts of a deceased man." He finished. I wanted to know what the hell he was talking about. Whose body parts?
My heart thrummed uncontrollably in my chest and my fists clenched and were turning white. An officer raised his hand and detective Washington called on him. Thankfully they officer asked the question that was running through my and probably Jason's mind.
"Whose body, detective?" The man asked and his eyes shifted to me in a silent apology.
"Forensics is on the scene as we speak, but the body appears to belong to Fintan Brigant. NOPD is going to send his body to the ME for positive identification." Detective Washington stated.
I blew out a breath of air and my fists unclenched. Jason looked relieved and Bill just looked disinterested. So much so that when his phone began to ring, he excused himself out of the conference room to answer it.
The briefing didn't last but a few more minutes after that and I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I felt as useless as the Shreveport PD by just sitting idly by while my daughter was out there somewhere in the arms of a lunatic.
I walked towards the coffee machine in an attempt to get some kind of stimulant to keep me awake. My own adrenaline just wasn't cutting it any longer.
As I rounded the corner I noticed Bill on his cell phone, though I'm certain he didn't notice me. I could hear his end of the phone conversation, so I listened carefully. I don't know why I felt compelled to do so, but my instincts were screaming at me that the guy just wasn't right.
"I understand sir, I don't know how long it takes to get a death certificate." He said in an agitated way. I kept listening though.
"Uh Huh. Yes, I understand that." He continued. I wasn't sure who he was talking to, but it didn't seem to be someone he knew personally.
"That's absurd!" He said in a hushed tone, but clearly angry.
"When will I be able to get a check then?" He asked.
"Ok, Ok. Yes. I understand. Thanks for your help. I will definitely do that. Thanks. Ok Bye." He finished his conversation then hung up. He paced the floor for a minute before schooling his features again.
Something was definitely up with the bastard and I wanted to find out. A direct confrontation wasn't the best way to handle the situation at the time, but I did want to make my presence known to him. I was betting that I would rattle his cages thinking that I had heard the conversation. I wanted to see his reaction, so I approached him casually.
"Hi Bill. Want a cup of coffee?" I offered politely.
Just as I suspected, he stiffened immediately. His eyes began shifting nervously. Yes, something was definitely up with the bastard.
"Oh, Uh. No thanks." He said and immediately took his leave.
I watched as he left the break room. Call it father's intuition, or instinct or whatever, but I knew that Bill Compton was involved in this somehow and I was going to get to the bottom of it.
Leaving the room, I grabbed Jason by the shoulder and pulled him into an empty office.
"What do you know of this Compton guy?" I growled. I didn't believe that Jason was involved with him, so I felt fairly free to ask him directly.
"Not much, really." He replied. Jason was proving to be just as useless as Detective Washington.
"Think Harder. I need to know every detail you can think of." I pressed. He was Ms. Stackhouse's brother; he had to know something of her life seeing as how they lived in the same small backwoods town.
He contemplated it for a minute. Either this guy was as dumb as a box of rocks, or he was the worst brother in the world. I couldn't decide know which was accurate.
"He moved to Bon Temps about five or six months ago. Sooks dated him about that long too." He said looking at the floor as if it were going to help him jog his memory or something.
"Where did he come from?" I asked impatiently.
"Some big city, I think New Orleans. He's real uptight and prissy 'bout things. I asked him, out of courtesy to my sister mind you, to go huntin' with me and the boys. And you know what he said?"
"What?" I said growing more impatient by the second.
"Said he didn't like guns. Then started tryin' to get in some big gun control debate with me. Said something 'bout the second amendment being an arcade game or something. I didn't know what the hell he was talkin' bout." He said shaking his head. "Anyhow, that was the last time I ever asked him anything." Jason said.
I contemplated that for a minute. No matter how I thought about it, it just didn't add up to me. I didn't understand why anyone, particularly someone who was, as Jason called him, "prissy and uptight" would want to move to Bon Temps where owning a gun was damn near a requirement.
I thanked Jason, gave him one of my cards so that he'd have my information. He in return wrote down his number from ripped out page of his little black book. No lie.
Time was definitely not on my side, and apparently neither was the Shreveport PD. I knew that if I ever wanted to see my little girl again, I'd have to find her myself. I wasn't completely hopeless. In fact, I had quite a few contacts. One of my best buddies in college, Rasul Hamadi, worked for the FBI. He managed to work his way up the food chain and now held a fairly influential position.
I silently berated myself for not having called him earlier. As I dialed his number, I felt my prospects of finding my daughter increasing.
"Rasul." He answered.
"Raz, this is Eric." I replied.
"Hey Eric! How the fuck have you been?" He asked coolly. He had no idea how much my insides were being torn into pieces.
"Not good, actually. Listen man, someone took Pam." I said.
"Fuck man, like abducted?." He said asked. I responded with a somber yes. Rasul was silent for a brief moment, probably contemplating the gravity of my words, and then asked, "What can I do?"
"These Shreveport cops are basically useless, so I'm on my own. But I need some info on a guy named Bill Compton. I don't know if that's his full name or anything, but he lives in Bon Temps and is known to live in New Orleans." I said, giving his as much info as I had.
"You think this guy did it?" He asked.
"I think he knows something at the very least." I said. I recalled his shifty eyes and the odd conversation with the unknown person which resulted in Bill demanding a check, an odd time to be thinking of something like that instead of his missing girlfriend.
"Alright man, give me an hour." He replied. I thanked him and he told me that he'd help me anyway that I needed.
After speaking with Rasul, I felt a bit better knowing that I had at least one resource to help me. I was dog tired, but the notion of going home to an empty house was too depressing. I knew that I needed some sleep and I was dead on my feet, but I just couldn't walk into my house and see her things. I wouldn't survive another night if I had to see her princess clothes or her dolls or smell her things. It was unbearable.
I checked into a hotel and got in a good hour power nap and was only woken by Rasul's call. Loaded with information and even more suspicion, I decided that my next step would be to pay the shifty Bill asshole a little visit.
A/N: I'm using this space for some shameless pimping.
I've been asked what stories am I currently enjoying? Well, I would recommend that you read Morggy's stories - Offshore and Nothing Short of Perfect. MissyDee always has something a tad bit naughty, but always very entertaining. My current obsession though is KJWrit's (maybe not so secret) story that she's posted on her own personal blog called, "The Secrets that We Keep".
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