Chapter 5: Interrogation

Quick Stop Groceries
Leonardo, New Jersey
10:57 PM

Randal sat behind the counter with an issue of "Juggs" close to his face. He turned the magazine sideways and pulled out the centerfold. The bell on the door rang as 3 men - an older man with graying hair in a suit and the other 2 in FBI-branded windbreakers - walked into the Quick Stop. One of the men in the jackets stood by the door as the other two approached the counter. Randal didn't even acknowledge them or look up from the magazine. The man in the suit took out his badge and began to talk, "I'm Special Agent Ron Satere, FBI."

Randal said nothing.

"Hello?" the agent asked. Randal finally became annoyed enough to respond in tepid fashion, "Huh? What can I do for ya?" "According to our records, Dante Hicks is employed at this…" he looked around and saw the poor state of the convenience store before continuing, "...establishment. We have a warrant for his arrest. Have you seen him tonight?"

"Who wants to know?" Randal asked, still not looking away from his precious pornography.

The agent's voice became irked, "I just told you, FBI."

Randal answered disinterestedly again, "And you wanted to know what now?"

Randal had the magazine pulled from his hands and before he saw it thrown on the floor, the older FBI agent grabbed him by his flannel shirt and he was pulled over the counter to where he was halfway over it. Agent Satere came face to face with the clerk and growled, "Look, asshole! I looking for Dante Hicks and I'm not in the mood to be all the way out in Jersey at little past a quarter to 11 at night being jacked around by a nutless fuck like you! Tell me where Hicks is or I'm gonna tear you a new asshole! Got it?"

Randal recoiled at the scent of the man's breath, "Jesus, did you eat a whore's ass smothered in onions for lunch? We sell Chewlie's gum…"

Satere released Randal from his shirt and dropped him face first into the floor. The grizzled agent turned to his two subordinates and barked out an order, "Agent Hodgson, look around. I have a feeling our friend here is gonna be a colossal pain in our asses." The agent behind him acknowledged his order and started looking the store over. The main agent and the clerk came face to face as Satere knelt down, "Now, are you gonna tell me willingly, or do I have to beat it out of you?" Randal rolled over and backed into the candy rack in front of the counter. Now he was secure in the idea that the FBI agent before him wasn't playing games, "I don't know where he is. He hasn't come in yet."

"Are you sure?" Satere asked.

Randal responded, nerves coming through in his voice, "No!"

"So you're not sure he's come in?"

"I mean yes!"

"So he has come in?"

"He hasn't come in here at all…" he put his head into his hand realizing what he just did, "...and I can't believe I just got suckered by my own mental trick!" "For your own sake, son," the agent stated as he stood up, "you'd best shut up while you're ahead. Graves, is it?" Randal looked up at the agent in startled surprise as he continued, "On April 17th, 1994, you knocked over a casket with one of Hicks' girlfriends in it, one Julia Dwyer. One T.S. Quint was said to be responsible for praying on Dwyer's insecurity of her weight which compelled her to perform 700 laps at the YMCA and end up with an embolism. We're currently investigating him and his current wife to see if there's a connection."

Randal saw this man's glee come forward on his face as he explained the situation openly. He was starting to feel a chill rocket up and down his body, the goosebumps being severe. He was disturbed enough to say it right at the agent, "You're a sadistic fuck, aren't you?"

The agent's face became far more sour and he reached up and grabbed him by his shirt again, lifting him up. Satere was an older man, but he was still in great shape physically for his age. He growled at the man as he spoke, "Look here you little shit nugget, I've been in the Bureau since long before you were a cum stain on your mother's bed sheets. I have never, ever let a case go unsolved in my entire career. This case is my swan song and I can't let an opportunity like this slip through my fingers. You want to know what this could do for me? Busting your friend's newfound partner can skyrocket me to the top being a top-ranked law enforcement analyst for all the major news networks. All I need is for you to either tell me what I want to know willingly, or I can have you tell me after I break your jaw and wait for a doctor to unwire your stupid face to talk. Which is it?"

"Sir," Agent Hodgson came from the back of the store. Satere looked at him as he presented a VHS tape. Randal realized what he neglected to do as he saw the agent show his superior, "I found something." Satare took the tape and after taking out a pair of glasses he looked at the tape. After a brief moment, he removed his glasses and turned to the agent at the door of the store, "Agent Nelson?" The agent at the door named Nelson turned and locked the door before turning the open sign over.

The agent before Randal folded the temples of his glasses as he looked at the man before him. The tension just became overwhelming, "I assure you, you're closed."

In the back room of the Quick Stop Randal was thrown into a chair at the boss's desk. Satere put the tape into the VCR and began playback. The tape rewound back roughly an hour and was stopped. Playing the tape back all four men watched the first few moments which consisted of the previous worker staying a few minutes later than normal, giving up, and locking the store up to leave. After a few more minutes they watched Randal finally coming into the store. They watched as he messed around and got the store back up to working order.

Randal was tense. He knew it was a matter of time before the jig was up. As the video played, Randal attempted to think his way out of his questioning.

The VCR started giving a grinding noise and stopped the tape before it kicked it back out. That was when he remembered the issue the security VCR had. Agent Nelson took the tape out and pulled back the guard lid of the cassette to look at the physical tape. Nothing looked wrong, so he proceeded to insert the tape back into the machine. The tape began playing again as the scene continued. Randal watched as he walked to the register as the door opened, Jay and Silent Bob walking in. Agent Satere took notice of the two and saw how Randal was interacting with them. He paused the tape, "Who are those guys?"

Randal was something of an expert of smartass comments, but under these circumstances his brain was somewhat going through a panic. He tried to come up with a real crusher. Instead… "Uh… Amway salesmen?"

Satere reached into his suit jacket and pulled his pistol from his holster. It was a Smith & Wesson 1076 chambered in 10mm. He walked behind the clerk and rested his hand holding the pistol next to his head and disengaged the safety, the gun going "click". The noise unnerved the man in the chair enough to spill, "Those two are Jay and Silent Bob," he said nervously, "they're local scumbags that used to sell in front of the store."

"Ah, yes," the agent said as he put more weight on the man's shoulder, "the restraining order. Seems they broke a law themselves being in here before the one year date. That wasn't so damn hard, now was it?" "Decades in the FBI and that's the best response you have?" Randal asked with a scoff. The pistol the agent had normally had what was called a bobbed hammer; the hammer had no spur that would allow the user to pull back the hammer manually before firing. Satere's was custom for it had the spur on his. Sliding his arm forward so Randal could see the gun and his hand Satere pulled the hammer back and cocked the gun.

The sight of the gun becoming cocked suddenly left an acidic taste in Randal's mouth. Satere leaned in and hovered over Randal's other shoulder as he spoke in a low threatening tone, "I don't need an extensive list of smartass phrases when my gun can do the talking for me. Understand something, fuckhead: I have a whole other power on my side allowing me to do whatever I want to to get the case done and over with. You're going to answer me straight," he turned the gun barrel to Randal's crotch, "or you're gonna be sitting to piss."

"What the fuck, man?" Randal asked, "Do you have a fixation on other men's dicks?"

"You better worry about being able to fixate on your own…" the agent stated, pulling the trigger. Randal saw the hammer drop, causing him to scream at the top of his lungs and flinch looking away…

The gun didn't fire.

Randal was extremely tense as it took a moment for him to realize nothing happened. He was so locked up he was still holding his breath as he opened one eye and looked down to himself. He finally exhaled and tried to breathe again with difficulty as Satere finished his point, "...because you might not be able to do it again if you fuck around with me," He pulled back on the slide ejecting the dummy round he used to psych out Randal, "Get it?"

Randal rubbed his chest as he tried to calm down. He managed to feel around his jeans and check himself. He sighed in relief, "Good thing I pissed before I closed the video store."

Satere rounded the chair and grabbed the man by the front of his undershirt and held him face to face, "You better tell me what I want to know when I ask or I guarantee you'll remember me every time you do piss."

By this time the agents started the security VCR again. Still holding Randal, Satere watched as the tape played and there was a flash of light that appeared on camera. It caught the agent's attention, making him watch. He then saw Dante walk into the store and push Jay aside. Satere picked him up and slammed him into the freezer entrance door behind them, his voice low and gruff, "Hasn't come in? Not at all?!"

Randal tried to quip back, "Did I mention I have a short memory? You see, I got hit in the head with a lava lamp bottle…" Randal's speech came to an immediate halt when Satere sunk his fist into his stomach. As Randal attempted to breathe one of the agents called out to Satere, "Sir, you might wanna see this." Satere released Randal - who dropped to the floor immediately - and turned to the monitor. They saw the man who was believed to have started all the trouble tonight…

Dan Shannon walked into the Quick Stop.

Satere spoke in a coarse tone, "Where are they?"

Randal answered him in broken speech, "I… don't... know." Satere knelt down, "I'll ask again. Where. Are. They?" Randal finally got some of his breath back and after coughing he blurted out, "I swear to God I don't know! I don't know where they are!"

"You see," Satere began to say in a somewhat cutesy voice, him grabbing the video store clerk by the shirt again, "I don't believe you. You lied to me several times already, puke. I take it you don't know why Mr. Shannon killed Ms. Loughran either, correct?"

Randal shook his head, "He didn't."

"Then why did the autopsy come in as a concentrated heat source as the cause of her death?" Satere was starting to feel Randal shake in his grip as he continued talking, "The heat concentration could only be performed by one of the Ghostbusters' pieces of equipment, a device known as an Ectoplasmic Destabilizer pistol. Although not a weapon by conventional means, still dangerous. The only other thing that could do such damage is an incendiary shotgun slug at point blank range, and there was no cartridge remains or magnesium fragments."

Satere snapped his fingers as one of the agents produced a file folder. Satere released Randal, took the folder, and proceeded to take a picture out of it. It was a picture of Veronica as she was laying on the ground. Her eyes were wide open with a trickle of blood leaking from her mouth. In her chest was a gaping wound with exposed organs, charred. The FBI agent promptly grabbed Randal by the throat and shoved the picture in his face forcing him to see the gore, "Come on, deadbeat, tell me how Shannon didn't do this!"

Now Randal was horrified. He knew this girl. Knew her. It was without doubt Veronica. The last time he saw her years ago she was alive and very angry with Dante. He felt something. He felt this horrible feeling he always thought he could handle if the time came. He was becoming overtly emotional to the point his breathing was becoming uneven. This wasn't like Julia or the other people he had gone to funerals for, grabbing their death cards like it was a sick hobby. This woman was being displayed in full unfiltered imagery and without any cosmetic concealment. For the first time in Randal's life, he felt it…

Randal Graves felt remorse.

"Now," the agent said as he took his hand away from the clerk's throat, "why did he do it? Why would he work with Hicks to do this?"

Randal rubbed his throat and spoke with a raspy voice, "They didn't do this!"

"What makes you believe that?" Satere asked calmly.

Randal panted as he spoke, "They were at the stadium all night. Dante was sitting next to him. The murder was in Red Bank, an hour away."

"Oh, right!" Satere said sarcastically, "Mr. Hicks just happened to be sitting next to Shannon at the time! There to say he was there the whole time! So the whole thing is a coincidence! Look, son," he became very menacing as he spoke in a dark voice, "don't bullshit me. From the guards' testimony, they looked to be in on it. On top of that, we also have the videotape evidence…"

A loud grinding sound was heard in the room as everyone looked around. Satere stood up and joined his other two agents when one of them exclaimed, "The VCR!" Smoke was starting to pour out of the security VCR's case as shortly after the videotape suddenly launched out of the player. The cassette flew across the room and was flying toward Randal's head. He ducked just in time for the tape to shatter against the freezer door on impact, the tapestock blowing all over the room like confetti.

Randal sat back up and saw the shattered remains of the tape from the security system. He mused unintentionally as he looked at the dent in the freezer door where his head was, "Holy shit! I always thought if a tape was gonna kill me, it'd be a copy of Super Mario Bros."

Satere chuckled at the situation. He almost laughed hard at it, actually. Even his two agents with him looked at each other after the very unusual circumstance that just occurred. The veteran agent stated flatly, "In honesty, the tape didn't matter. The situation was so that the danger of those nuclear accelerators the Ghostbusters wear made the director authorize a special condition for me and my field agents." He knelt back down onto the now unraveled and damaged video tape to look Randal in the eye, again speaking darkly, "Mr. Graves, your friend is in a lot of trouble. When we get a hold of him and his partner, we have been ordered to shoot the both of them. They're considered Domestic Terrorists. That was the special authorization granted to me." He stood and ordered his agents, "Boys: Detain him."

Hodgkins and Nelson got Randal to his feet. Satere opened the freezer door. Randal knew what this meant, "Oh, shit, not Hoth again!" They threw him in. Randal tried to keep his footing only to slip on an ice patch left on the floor. He fell on his hip hard and yelped in pain. He heard Satere talk to him with a sickly sweet tone of voice, "Look on the bright side; You're a free man, and you'll get two new funeral cards out of this. Have a nice night, Mr. Graves." Just as he rolled over, Satere's smirk was the last thing he saw before the freezer door closed. He got to his feet and started pounding on the freezer door demanding to be released.

Outside the store, Nelson came up behind his superior and watched as he lit a cigarette. The two field agents looked at each other before Nelson turned back to Satere, "Should we notify the store owner or something?" Satere took a long drag of his cigarette and slowly let the smoke out, a look of glee gracing his face as he watched the smoke waft into the October sky.

After a moment of eerie silence the senior agent spoke, "Fuck 'em. Let the freezer cool his attitude for a while. The next sorry son of a bitch can find him when he clocks into work." With that, the agent walked back to his Crown Victoria.

Inside Randal continued screaming and rapping on the door to the freezer, "Get me out of here, you sick motherfucker! You can't do this!" With each subsequent pound of the door he became weaker. Not from exhaustion but from emotional defeat. With his last pound he leaned against the door and began sliding down it to the floor. He turned to sit on the floor, out of breath, what breath that was coming out of his mouth turning to steam in the cold of the freezer.

Randal got his knees up to where he could rest his arms on them and put his head into his hands. The soft sounds of him whimpering were heard as he remembered the image of Veronica's body blown open and singed.

Randal was a very cynical and selfish man. He spent his life harassing and insulting those he thought were under him. No one was really his friend; the people around him would rather get hit by a speeding truck than be with him. He only did things he wanted to do and if it screwed up other people's lives, it didn't matter - it wasn't his life.

But now he saw the result of something that he was now starting to believe he caused. Dante was a good person to antagonize, but he was the only one he actually trusted. He just learned that Dante and another man were sentenced to an early death. There was nothing he could do. He was stuck in this freezer without a way to call out. Because of his laziness he left the tape in the security system, being lazy like he always was. Had he just bothered to do it when he was told…

"I'm sorry guys," he said softly with his head buried in his hands, "I got you killed." Randal stayed silent for a good long moment as he mustered the will and strength to say something he never thought he was ever going to say. He looked to the ceiling with tears in his eyes; to the heavens…

"God, help."