Cruel Comfort (Evan Buckley Thrillers Book 1) (13 page)

He went back upstairs and sat at his
desk. The last thing he wanted was another trip to some local government
offices to wade through more official records. It was four pm on Friday and he
knew he wouldn't be able to get to the District Court before it closed. That
meant he was going to have to wait until Monday morning. That wasn't a massive
problem in itself apart from the fact that it gave him a bit of a dilemma.

If Hendricks really was Jason
Saunders, then he would want to do a whole lot more digging to try to find out
if he had anything in his past that he was hiding. In which case, the quicker
he got started, the better. On the other hand, if Hendricks wasn't Jason
Saunders, he didn't want to waste a lot of time and effort chasing something
that ultimately led nowhere.

The real problem was how was he
going to pass the weekend if he didn't, because his conversation with Jacobson
had shaken loose a lot of doubts and worries that he didn't want to have to
deal with.

He went back down to Jacobson's
office. Jacobson was getting ready to go. 'Uh oh, I see someone in need of a
beer.'

'What are you, a mind reader?'

'No, I read faces. In my job you
need to be able to see the level of fear in a patient's eyes. And I see fear in
yours.'

'Fear of what?'

'Of being alone. Of not trusting
what you might do left to your own devices. Come on, let's go.'

They went to the same bar as before.
It was still early so they got settled into the best seats at the end of the
bar. On the short side in the corner, not the long, front side where everyone
buying drinks keeps leaning over you and dripping beer on your pants.

There was something wrong with the
TVs so they were off, which was an added bonus. If Evan had his way they
wouldn't allow TVs in a bar. If you wanted to watch TV, stay ay home. If you
wanted a beer, go to a bar. Simple. Besides, they were only there for the bar
staff to stop them getting bored.

'What's on your mind,' Jacobson
said, after he'd got the first round in.'

'Talking about people changing their
names makes me think things I don't want to think. About Sarah.'

Jacobson nodded and sipped his beer.

'I've always thought something must
have happened to Sarah,' Evan went on. 'Killed or abducted or whatever.'

He sat there with the terrible
thoughts that plagued him pushing their way to the forefront of his mind. He
didn't think he'd ever voiced them aloud. He didn't know if he'd be able to. He
swallowed thickly and took a long pull on his beer to give himself a few more
seconds. Jacobson waited for him to continue. For once Evan could have done
with the inane background noise of the TVs.

'Or is it that I've always
wanted
to think that something happened to her. Because the alternative is too awful
for me to deal with.'

It was easier to say than he had
thought it would be. He didn't want to think about what that might imply. Christ,
you could drive yourself mad.

'Because the alternative is that she
chose
to go.'

It was all pouring out now. 'Because
she couldn't stand to be with me any longer. Just like the Schneiders. She made
a conscious effort to disappear because I'm as bad as Max Schneider. Then
changed her name so that I couldn't ever find her.'

Jacobson put his hand on Evan's
shoulder. 'Don't do this to yourself, Evan.'

'I can't help it. Most of the time
I'm okay, then suddenly something will set it all off.'

'Okay. So what stops it again?'

Evan turned his head to look at
Jacobson. 'A hangover usually.'

'Coming up,' Jacobson said, slapping
him hard on the back. He downed his beer and ordering the next round.

'I don't want to be too boring and practical,
but I do need to know,’ Evan said. ‘If I knew she chose to walk out then I'd
stop trying to find out what happened and try to move on.’ He met Jacobson’s
steady gaze and wondered if his life was as complicated.

‘But if something happened to her
then I can't ever give up. She could have been abducted and she's still alive
in some shitty basement, hoping I'll find her. If there's a
one in a billion chance
of that being true, I've got to
keep looking.'

Jacobson took a deep breath and let
it out again. 'You certainly know how to torture yourself.'

'As I said, I'm okay most of the
time and the possibility of finding her alive keeps me going. It's just that
every now and then something happens to make me start thinking all this shit.'

'I'm guessing that's when you lock
your door and hit the whisky bottle.'

'You know, Tom, you've really got to
stop auditing the trash cans.'

Jacobson laughed. 'I don't mind. My
clients get high on the fumes and it saves me paying for novocaine.'

Evan ordered two more beers. At this
rate the hangover-induced catharsis was practically guaranteed.

'It get's even worse you know,' Evan
said.

'Is that possible?'

'Oh yes. It makes me question
whether I ever really loved her.'

Jacobson swivelled in his chair,
clamped a huge hand on each of Evan's shoulders and shook him violently.
'Enough, already!'

Evan started to speak again so
Jacobson shook him even harder. After Evan didn't say anything for a few
seconds Jacobson took his hands away. Evan leaned away from him and lifted his
hands up in appeasement.

'Just let me just say this, okay?'

Jacobson shook his head sadly but
didn't say anything else.

'If I really loved her then I'd want
her to be alive and happy whether it's with me or someone else. But if it's not
with me then I'll feel a whole lot better if she's dead. That way I can go on
living with my memories and not have to look at myself too hard. I'm putting my
feelings over her life. Does that sound like the dictionary definition of love
to you?'

'There's no hope for you Evan.
You're determined to give yourself a hard time. I suggest we try the hangover
method first and if that doesn't work, I'm prescribing a lethal dose of novocaine.
It's your round.'

Evan felt like shit the next
morning. Something unpleasant had crawled into his mouth during the night and
died. Jacobson was a big guy and had drunk him under the table. But despite his
physical symptoms Evan felt a lot better for having got it all off his chest.
He felt like he had a chance of making it through the weekend at least.

In his drunken state the previous
evening it had occurred to him that it might be worth checking with Faulkner to
see if he knew anything about the possibility of Hendricks having changed his
name. He was in his car on his way to Faulkner's trailer park when his cell
phone rang. He didn't recognize the number but he answered it anyway.

'Mr Buckley, this is Barbara
Schneider.'

In his surprise he swerved and
almost hit a car coming in the other direction, its horn blaring and then
receding into the distance.

'I can call back if you're driving,'
she said. She had a lovely voice. Probably the sort of voice you heard if you
called a phone sex line, not that Evan had ever done that.

'No, no, it's okay,' he said pulling
onto the shoulder.

'Ginny Doyle said you wanted to talk
to me. She said it was very important.'

Evan couldn't think of any gentle
way to ease into the questions he wanted to ask. He didn't know how much Doyle
had told her. He needn't have worried; she carried on without waiting for him
to say anything.

'She said you wanted to ask me about
when I left my husband.'

'I realize this might be
difficult...'

'It's ancient history. Don't worry
about me. Just ask me what you want to know.'

'I wanted to ask if you...' He
couldn't think of a nice way to put it.

'Ran away with another man when I
left my husband?'

'Yes.'

'The answer's no. I ran away on my
own. Does that help you?'

He was finding the conversation very
unsettling. The strange combination of her directness coupled with her lovely
voice made it difficult to think clearly. He got the impression you could ask
her anything.

'I ... think so.'

'You don't sound very sure.'

He could hear the amusement in her
voice and wondered if she was used to having that effect on people. On men in
particular.

'I'm not.'

'Would it be easier if you came over
to see me?'

'I thought you didn't want anyone to
know where you are.'

She laughed. It was a lovely laugh
too. It made him wonder about the mouth that these lovely sounds came out of. 'I
think Ginny is being a little melodramatic.'

She gave him an address which was
only about a hundred miles away.

'You didn't go far,' he said.

'Why would I? That idiot Max never leaves
the house and there wasn't anyone else to worry about. Can you come straight
over? I have to go out later.'

Evan decided he could visit Faulkner
later and he didn't want to risk her changing her mind. He told her he'd be
there in a couple of hours. Then he turned his phone off so that she couldn't
ring back and cancel.

Barbara Schneider was everything her
laugh and phone sex voice promised and some. She was attractive in a slightly
tarty sort of way, with a little too much makeup for this early in the day. The
lips that let slip the wonderful sounds were full and coated with dark red
lipstick. She was shapely too; broad across the beam - in a good way - but
cinched in at the waist and with a huge bust to top it all off. The bust was
very much on show. You don't get half a dozen of those in an egg box, Evan
thought, as he admired the magnificent display.
Is this for my benefit?

He almost felt sorry for Max
Schneider and his doomed attempts to keep this much woman in check. What had
she ever seen in him unless he was equally impressive in the downstairs department?

Evan looked around, not exactly
nervously, as he entered, to see if there was any evidence of a man living
there. He was starting to feel a bit like an unsuspecting fly that had just
been tricked into entering a big, fat spider's web.

To go with the totally inadequate
sweater she was wearing that morning, Barbara was wearing a skirt that was a
little too short for her age and the size of her backside. It also slid up
easily and alarmingly over her powerful thighs when she sat down. Evan wouldn't
have wanted to get his head stuck between those, especially not with his
damaged ear.
Just don't ask me to call you Babs
.

'What happened to your face?' she
asked.

'A dissatisfied client,' he said,
and grinned.

She smiled back, revealing perfect
teeth. Was that the tip of her tongue poking through?

'I don't believe that for a minute.
You look like Mr. Satisfaction Guaranteed to me. Anyway, what do you want to
know?'

Evan was having difficulty stopping
himself staring at her chest. His eyes just kept slipping downwards. As a
result he was making himself stare at the point where her eyebrows met. It was
a trick he used when talking to people with crossed eyes. He never knew which
one to look at and this trick made it look like you were looking at both of
them and not favoring one or the other.

He was doing it now because if he
stared too fixedly into her eyes she would think he was hitting on her, but
every time he averted his eyes they immediately dropped to her breasts. The
problem was it made him look like he was holding his head stiffly.

'Have you got something wrong with
your neck as well?' she asked with a hint of a smile.
She knows exactly what
she's doing
.

'I slept badly. Anyway, let me start
from the beginning.'

He told her the basic outline of the
case; about Daniel and then Robbie disappearing and the rumors about Robbie
running away. He missed out the nastier rumors and he didn't mention any names.

'So you want to know if I ran away
with the father.'

She shifted in her chair and her
skirt rode up some more to reveal the lacy tops of her pantyhose.
At this
time in the morning?
Evan was aware of faint stirrings in his own
underwear. He'd noticed before how frisky he felt when he had a bad hangover.

He had a theory that a really bad
hangover makes your brain think you’re actually dying. You then get an
instinctive reaction from your body - one last ditch attempt to procreate and
carry on the genes before you die. It was nature’s way of keeping the species
going. He was sure there was a large body of scientific evidence to back it up.

It was nothing obvious at this stage
but he didn't want it to go any further. Unfortunately, it seemed like Babs (he
had to admit it was the only thing to call her) had exactly the opposite idea.
He was sure she kept glancing down at his crotch. He crossed his legs primly,
which made her smile again.

'You'd have to tell me his name
first,' she said.

Evan opened his mouth to tell her
when she said, 'No need, you're talking about Robbie Clayton aren't you.'

'Yes. So you knew him.'

'I knew him before I ran away.
You've talked to Ginny so she probably told you what my husband was like.'

Evan nodded. 'I've met him too.'

'Lucky you! You’ve seen the amusing
side of him, no doubt. Amusing if you can laugh at his stupid antics and then
leave; not so amusing if you live with it day in day out. But it’s not all
harmless fun.’

‘I know. I saw the temper as well.’

Well, it was a lot worse than you
saw or Ginny said, I can tell you. I didn't tell her, or anyone else, the half
of it.'

Again Evan nodded and made
encouraging please-continue noises.

'I was a very attractive woman back
then,' she said, putting the emphasis on the
very
, and then paused. And
paused. It was a fishing expedition, but Evan wasn't biting. She didn't seem to
mind. 'I had all the young men flirting with me and it drove Max wild. So he
used to beat the shit out of me. Try to make me less appealing.'

Evan made the appropriate
sympathetic sounds.

'It was very flattering, but that's
all it was to begin with. I was married and I took that seriously. We went to
Church regularly.'
Good God, I hope you didn't go dressed like that. At
least you took the priests' minds off the altar boys for a while.

'But Max was a real shit.' Her whole
body seemed to crumple in on itself as the memories came flooding back. 'Then I
met Robbie and everything was different from then on.'

'But he didn't run away with you?'

She shook her head sadly. 'No. I
begged him to and I think he would have come with me...'

'But then Daniel disappeared.'

'Yes. He changed then. It brought
his family life back into focus. I was just a bit of fun on the side. He was
obsessed with finding out what happened to his boy.’ Her gaze passed straight
through Evan, back in time to what might have been. ‘Compared to that I wasn't
important any more. Not important enough, anyway.'

Suddenly it was a very different
woman sitting in front of him. The clothes were the same but now they were just
inappropriate, not provocative. Or had that all been in Evan's mind (and
underwear). The body inside the clothes didn't look quite so full and bursting
with life; more like someone had pulled the stopper out of an inflatable
mattress. Bumps and hollows in all the right places but not very exciting.

'I'm really sorry I had to bring all
this up again,' he said.

'It's not your fault and in a way
it's made me feel better too.'

'How's that?'

'I never knew Robbie had disappeared
as well as Daniel. I thought he just went back to his happy family life, with
or without the boy, and forgot all about me.'

'I don't think he'd ever have
forgotten about you,' Evan said, hoping he hadn't overdone it. He wasn't sure
if he wanted to bring back too much of the original Babs.

'What do you think happened to him?'
she asked, as if she hadn't heard.

'I think something bad happened to
him as well. He's not with his wife, and he's not with you. The police think he
ran off because he killed Daniel. I don't believe for a minute he did anything
to Daniel and I think if he'd run off, he'd have taken you with him.'

She smiled at the compliment and it
was if a light had been turned back on inside her. 'I think you're right. He
couldn't have hurt that boy in a million years. And he might have chosen family
over me, but if he was going to turn his back on his family, he'd be with me
now.' Her spirits seemed to be fully recovered already.

'Did he have any suspicions about
what might have happened to Daniel?'

'Not really, but I know he didn't
agree with the police. They thought it was the boy's teacher, but Robbie didn't
buy that. I can't remember what it was now but he thought their
"evidence" ' - she did the quotes thing with her fingers - 'was
pretty thin. He thought the teacher was a pretty good guy.'

Evan knew she was talking about
Hendricks’ evidence but didn't say anything. 'Did he try to find out what
happened?'

'I don't really know. I know he felt
really guilty, as if it was his fault; as if it wouldn't have happened if he
hadn't...'

Been with me?

She couldn't finish the sentence,
just sat looking down at her hands in her lap. Then she looked up at Evan. 'I
think he also blamed me in a way because he was with me that afternoon. There;
I've said it.' She took a deep breath and bit down on her bottom lip.

Evan hoped she wasn't about to cry.
'I don't think it would have made any difference if he was with you or getting
drunk in a bar, which is what he said he was doing.'

She smiled at him again. 'Thank you
for saying that. You know, you're the first person I've talked to about all
this. You don't exactly go up to people and say,
Hi, I'm Babs; I was in bed
with a married man when his boy got abducted
. It tends to limit the number
of dinner party invites you get. Turns you into something of a pariah.'

She shifted in her chair and her
knee brushed Evan's. He jumped slightly and a shiver rippled through him.

'He didn't say anything about trying
to find out what happened himself? 'Evan said in an attempt to stop her
descending into a pit of remorse and self pity again. And to take his mind off
the effect she was having on him.

'No, we never saw each other again.
What with all the interest in the disappearance and everything else, he
couldn't have risked it even if he wanted to. The one thing I can tell you for
sure is that he didn't run off with me.'

Evan was pleased to hear what she
said; he truly believed something bad had happened to Robbie. It meant he
wouldn't have to go back to Linda and tell her that
her Robbie
had run
off with another woman - just like all the old gossips said.