Unapologize
By: PricklySare
Chapter Fifty: Lester Plays Bad Cop
Lester's POV
Morelli's last words to Steph, echoed in my head as we took the elevator to the fifth floor. "How'd Morelli know about the gas station?" I asked Steph as we climbed off the elevator and headed back to Tank's office.
She looked at me over her shoulder, a frown causing her forehead to crease. "The gossip mill?"
"It was the middle of nowhere, and Cassidy called in the cleanup. Do you really think the gossip mill would have heard about it?"
"Anything's possible,"she stopped walking and shut her eyes, shaking her head, "but you don't believe that do you?" she asked.
I cupped her cheek with my palm, "No, Beautiful, I don't."
"Morelli?"
"Seems like a good possibility."
"But how? We left from the police station. How would he have even known where I was?" She was right, how would he have known?
"Maybe he knows someone at SSPD," I offered.
"Maybe," she said. "Have you...talked to Deputy Dumbfuck, yet?"
I snorted at the name. "You mean the dickless wonder? Not yet. Once we schedule the meeting with Cassidy I'm going to head down there."
"I think I'll watch."
Steph was inherently good, and had a soft heart. Would she really want to know what method I used to talk to him? "You sure?"
A smile that showed none of the happiness, or kindness that it normally did flashed across her face. "Definitely."
"In that case," I said, removing my phone from my belt, "I'll just touch base with Tank and find out when the meeting is set for. Then, we'll go down now." I sent a text to Tank. Meeting with Cassidy?
His response was quick and to the point. 1500 Conference A.
"Looks like we've got some time to play. Meeting isn't until 1500." I'm good at what I do, so I really didn't anticipate that it would take more than fifteen minutes—thirty, tops, to get the limp prick to break.
"Lead the way," she said with a wave of her arm.
"You don't have to come down," I said wrapping my arm around her waist. She snuggled in close, resting her head on my chest, and I tried to ignore the painful squeeze of my heart. I loved her, had for what seemed like forever, but she wasn't mine. Not that way.
"Don't worry about it, Les. I'm really okay with this."
I pulled away so I could look her in the eyes. They were clear and bright. "You really are," I said. She'd changed a lot since she had come to work for Rangeman, but since Ranger had left, the changes were even more noticeable. She was strong. Stronger than I'd given her credit for, but I shouldn't have been surprised. She hadn't even batted an eye when I told her about my past.
"Yep. I really am," she said smiling.
"Then let's do this."
The holding cells are bleak rooms with one way glass covering an entire wall. There aren't any bars because the rooms are soundproof unless they're being monitored from the outside. All conversations inside the rooms are recorded, and an occupant couldn't fart without it being saved for posterity. Rangeman didn't believe in privacy for our detainees, and we also didn't bend to the whims of law enforcement. The Revised Miranda Rights were just pretty words when it came to our interrogations.
Most of us had learned our interrogation techniques in some of the nastiest places on Earth, and we'd perfected them over time, with a lot of on the job training. We'd learned it first hand, from people who were even nastier than the places were. You can learn a lot when you're on the wrong side of an interrogator's tools. It's amazing how the mind focuses through the red haze of pain on little things, like the technique of the guy who really enjoys his job.
Today, the cop was going to experience the way a real interrogation was done. He'd wanted to play big man interrogator with Steph, well, he was going to learn what it felt like to be interrogated, and I guarantee he wasn't going to like the outcome. I left Steph in the observation room, with control of the speakers, saying on the way out, "If you need to leave, I'll understand."
She responded with a simple, "I'll be right here," never taking her eyes off the man behind the glass.
We'd run an in depth background check on Lemprick, and added that information to what Cassidy had already compiled. It was going to be fun breaking him. I opened the reinforced steel door, and stepped inside the cell. All my rage was stored away, and I was in control. I'd prepared for this, and this time, I was focused. The cop jumped up from his place on the cot, doing his best to lunge at me. I stepped to the side, and he ran face first into the one way glass, his healing nose cracking on impact. "I'll kill you!"
Stupid, stupid, fat man. "No. You won't." My voice was cold as frozen tundra. I was Mors Mortis, and I had a job to do. That job was to make the maggot in front of me talk. "You're not man enough to kill me."
He rushed me, swinging his fists, hate and anger clouding his eyes. This time I swept his legs out from under him, dropping him to the floor. His head bounced off the concrete, and he yelled, "Fuck you, asshole!" I was toying with him, getting him angry, wearing him out. Men like him were all the same, they had the same triggers, the same reactions. Hit him enough times below the mental belt and you wouldn't even have to lay a hand on him. He'd self destruct.
"Nah, I think I'll pass. You're not my type."
"Not enough bitch for you?" he asked, climbing back to his feet.
"No, too much of one," I said, my eyes locked on his. "I think the doctor made a mistake with you, and you've been trying to make up for it." His eyes narrowed, and I knew he was going to spring again. "Must suck to be a dickless wonder."
"I've got a dick," he said, "just ask that cunt you're sticking it to. She loved every minute of what I gave her." Fury bubbled deep inside me, but it wouldn't escape. Not here. I'd keep it locked away until I was finished, then I'd go to the gym, or the gun range. He wasn't going to get a rise out of me.
"Must not know how to use it then, because she doesn't remember it. And trust me, if I were sticking it to her, she'd remember every second I was buried inside."
"You don't know what you're talking about. I'm going to beat your head into the ground, and when you're a bloody mess, I'm going to cum on your face. Then we'll see whose dickless," he said as he advanced toward me. All the information we'd gone through had pointed out that he was a sick, twisted mother fucker. Literally. Now he'd given me the opening I'd been waiting for.
"You enjoy that don't you? Makes you feel like a man. Is that what you did to your father?" He stopped moving, fear flashing across his face. "Yeah, I know all about your past, Limp Dick," I said. "I know all about how your father was beaten to death, your mother raped and left in a coma. How did it feel to pull the plug on her? Did it make you feel like a man?"
He didn't say anything, just continued to stand there, staring at me. "Not so cocky, now are you?" This time I stalked toward him, forcing him to step back. His eyes were red rimmed, his bulbous nose off center with blood still dripping down. He reeked of sweat, and fear. He was going to break soon, and then he would squeal like a pig.
Finally he spoke, "You can't prove anything. I'm a cop, no one will believe anything some two bit thug has to say."
"Are you sure about that?" I asked, my voice flat.
The change was instant. He went from the scared miscreant to the pompous ass he'd been the first time I'd dealt with him. He thought he was safe, and I had him just where I needed him. "I've got protection," he said. "How do you think I've stayed safe so long? People respect me, and I've got power. I'm untouchable." He puffed up his chest and threw back his shoulders, his gut shaking above his waistband. "You made a huge mistake when you screwed with me. She'll make you pay."
She? The person pulling his strings and covering up for him was a woman? What kind of woman would cover up for someone who raped and killed his own mother? "Don't hold your breath, officer. Nobody's untouchable. Especially you. Your big protector is more likely to kill you now that she knows you've been blabbing to the enemy."
"I haven't said dick to no enemy."
"Oh, but you have, and when you walk out of the building she'll know it."
"You're blowin' smoke up my ass. You don't know nothing."
"That won't matter. You've been here two days. I'm betting you were supposed to get in touch with her, right?" I saw the answer clearly on his face. It was like a neon sign saying, Oh shit. "Someone that powerful isn't going to take a chance that you told anyone about the favors she's done for you. You're dead already. It just hasn't caught up with you yet."
Fear was plain in his eyes, and his pulse beat frantically in his neck. I stayed still, taking up his space, keeping him imprisoned against the wall, but not touching him. "Shit, shit, shit. She's going to kill me and I ain't done nothing. I ain't said nothin'."
"We can keep you safe, if you help us out," I said. I had no intentions of keeping him safe. In my book he didn't deserve our help, or our protection, not after what he'd done to Steph. I knew that if Ranger were around, he wouldn't offer it either. I wasn't worried about the black mark the lie would leave on my soul. It was already covered with them and one more wasn't going to matter.
"You can't keep me safe. You ain't nothing but a thug," he said, sweat beading on his forehead.
"That's where you're wrong. Right now, Rangeman's all that's standing between you and an early retirement." I started backing up. I needed to get distance before I decided to kill him. That wasn't my job. Damn shame. I'd have enjoyed it. "Your choice. When I walk out that door, you're on your own. We'll release you, and you can take your chances on the street." I walked to the door and opened it, deliberately turning my back on him. He wasn't a threat to me, and I knew he was going to cave.
"Wait!" I turned around, and waited.
"I'll do whatever you want, just don't let her kill me. I know what she's like, and I don't want to die." Bingo.
"Who is she?"
"I don't know."
"You're fucking with me. Good luck with what's left of your life," I said, once again turning toward the door.
"I swear, I don't know! She never told me her name." I stopped again, but didn't face him. "It's not like we meet for coffee and to swap recipes."
"Then how do you get your orders?"
"A secure cell showed up in the mail a few years ago programmed with one number." I finally turned around to look at him, but didn't say anything. "When I called she told me she was the one responsible for my new life. That I had her to thank for cleaning up my past. Told me I was going to join the SSPD, and to wait for her call, that I was going to help her out."
"Why did you believe her?"
"She knew things. Things I ain't told nobody. So, I did it."
"When did she call you?"
"Few months after I got the job. Said to be ready when she needed something." He'd started pacing, and I leaned my back against the one way glass, wondering what Steph thought of the show in front of her.
"What kind of things have you done for her?"
"Whatever she told me to. She made sure I knew I owed her."
"Who was the girl?" I asked.
"Her stupid bitch assistant. Said she'd called her crazy or quit or something. You know how bitches are."
A thought was niggling at my brain, but it wasn't quite there yet. "Who killed her?"
"Man, I ain't saying shit about that. I plead the fifth." He actually smiled, and there was pride there. He'd done it and he was proud of it. I'd met a lot of sick fucks in the world, but he was up there. I'd seen the crime scene photos. Her death was bloody and brutal.
"Okay, who wanted her dead?"
"The same government bitch whose been directing my life since the day I got that cell."
"How do you know she works for the government?"
"Some of the stuff she'd say when she was in a snit. Plus, she'd have to have some serious connections to erase the information she did."
"Why'd you frame Stephanie?" He just looked at me, not saying anything. "You don't want to fuck with me on this. Now answer the question or I promise when you leave this building it'll be in pieces." His already waxy skin paled further. Fear is a mighty motivator, and I was definitely motivating.
"I was told to get rid of her. Figured I'd kill two birds."
"Why?"
"Why, what? It was easier that way," he said, as if I'd just asked a stupid question.
"Why did she want you to get rid of Steph?" I really wanted to push my fist through his face, but didn't.
He made a rude sound with his mouth, "Fuck, if I know. Said something about her being a tramp, messing with some asset or some shit." I had a really bad feeling about this, and it didn't bode well for Ranger.
"Did she say anything else about this asset? Like what it was?" Or whom.
"Nah, but lately she's been acting real crazy. She's pissed about the asset, said something about destroying it."
Fuck. This was definitely not looking good for Ranger. Looked like Steph was right, there was something wrong with the notification. Especially if the person behind it was his handler. I tried to remember anything Ranger'd said about his handler, and I swore to myself. He never talked to us about anything that pertained to his contract work, unless it affected us. Sonofabitch. I couldn't even remember if his handler had been female. Maybe there was another explanation. Morelli, maybe? Hadn't he been doing undercover work?
"Is there anything else you know about her?"
"Nothing. Like I said, it wasn't like we sat around and gossiped. Now you're gonna help me out, right?"
"Yeah, I'll help you out. You deserve it, and more." A smug smile flashed across his face just as my fist slammed into it, knocking him out.
I removed my phone from it's holster and sent a text to Tank. Clean up and removal. Let the sharks at him.
Get what we need?
Yeah, and it's all bad. I replaced the cell on my belt and walked out the door, latching it behind me. Someone would be down to take him out of the building. I hoped his life would be short.
Steph was still staring through the window when I went into the observation room. "You okay?"
"Yeah. That was a lot less bloody than I expected."
"It didn't call for a lot of blood," I replied. "We got what we needed, and that was the point."
"Yeah, thanks for punching him out though. He really deserved it." She shook her head and looked at me. "He killed Bonnie, and then framed me for it. All because of some crazy woman I don't even know?"
"Looks that way."
"He mentioned that I was messing around with an asset. Cassidy talked to me about that at the safe house. He said that Bonnie had been the assistant to a Director of Asset Management." I stood quietly while she pieced together what she knew. "He told me that assets were just as often people as things."
"That's true."
"Wait a second. Cassidy knows who Bonnie's boss was, and Deputy Fucker in there just told us that his puppet master was her boss and wanted her dead. Shit!" It often amazed me at how well her mind worked things out. "Do you think the asset I've been screwing with is Ranger?"
"Could be, or else it could be Morelli."
"Morelli? How do you figure?"
"Hasn't he been working undercover a lot recently?"
"Supposedly," she said.
"Then it's possible he could be the asset too."
She stood there quietly, her eyes closed. "No, I really don't think so, Les. I think she's Ranger's handler, and I think that means he's in real trouble."
"I agree, but we won't know until we get more information, and I still think Morelli isn't on the up and up. He shouldn't have known about the gas station."
"Fuck! Can't anything be simple?" she asked.
"'Fraid not, Beautiful, but let's get upstairs. Cassidy should be here soon."
An hour and a half later we had filled Cassidy in on what we'd discovered, and on our working belief that until there was a body, Ranger was still alive.
"I agree that you shouldn't stop looking for him. The notice seems a little too pat, and not really something protocol would dictate. I'm not saying it doesn't happen, but it's incredibly rare." He ran his hands through his hair and let out a breath, "You're sure he said the person he's been working for was the victim's boss?"
"Positive," Steph and I said simultaneously.
"Shit. This is going to open a whole can of governmental worms. I might be looking for a new job soon."
"I think you'd make a great addition to Rangeman," Steph said. "You'll fit right in.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said with a smile.
"What's the next step?" Tank asked Cassidy.
"I'm going to try to dig up whatever I can on Ms. McMillian's former boss. Now that I have a starting point I might be able to connect her to the fairy godmother who'd been protecting Lemprick all this time." He paused, "Where is he anyway?"
"Couldn't tell you," I said.
"Haven't seen him," Tank added.
When he looked over at Steph she smiled and said, "What? Do you think I've got him hidden in my pocket?"
"So, he's not here, then?" We all shook our heads. "Good to know. The streets are a dangerous place for a person." Just then his phone rang, "Excuse me a moment," he said flipping it open. "Cassidy." His eyes took each of us in, while he listened to the caller. "What would that be?" he said, then looked at his watch. "Call me back in ten minutes, and we can discuss that," he said, hanging up. We were silent, waiting for him to speak. "It would appear, Steph, that you were right."
"About?" she asked.
"Ranger's still alive, or at least I'm pretty sure he is."
"Was that him?" she asked, while Tank and I looked at each other. Why would Ranger call Cassidy, someone he didn't even know, instead of one of us?
"I'm not sure, but I'm going to find out when he calls back."
"What did he say?" she asked.
Cassidy smiled, "He said I have something that belongs to him... you."
"Why would he call you?" Tank asked, proving he and I were on the same page. "I didn't think you guys had met."
"We haven't, at least not officially, so I can't answer that question, but when I can you'll be the first to know."
When the phone rang again everyone tensed, and leaned forward when he answered, "Cassidy."