White Space Season 1

ribs.
    Whistler screamed again.
    “Where is she?”
    “Where’s who?” Whistler said.
    Houser punched him again, harder. “Don’t make me fucking ask again. Tell me now. Or else I’m gonna cut your balls off and hang them from my rearview.”
    “I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
    Houser spun the man, stomach to the sun, then grabbed him hard by the cheeks and squeezed them together hard enough to turn them purple, then violently shook Whistler’s head back and forth.
    “I know what you are,” Houser said. “You might be able to hide your sick little fetishes from your friends, these good people at the church, and maybe even God above. But you can’t hide it from me. I know what you are.”
    Houser leaned in close enough for Whistler to smell the sweetness of his breath. He growled, “Don’t make me ask again. Where is she?”
    Whistler cried, “I swear, I don’t …”
    Houser smacked him hard in the face, then grabbed him by the cheeks again, splaying his fingers into Whistler’s flesh, then squeezing even harder.
    “Where is Emma Hughes?”
    Whistler’s eyes widened, recognizing the name, maybe even thinking of the photos he’d snapped of the girl, or where he was holding her.
    “Ah. See. You DO know who I’m talking about,” Houser said, smile spreading. “Now, tell me.”
    “I don’t know,” Whistler said, sobbing, his lips quivering in fear.
    Houser shook his head, “Oh, man. That’s too bad. I was really hoping you wouldn’t make me get Betty.”
    “Betty?” Whistler said, fear and confusion now fighting for his eyes. “Who’s Betty.”
    Houser pulled the gun from his holster, and displayed it for Whistler, enjoying the look of fear light in the man’s eyes. “Oh, you don’t know Betty? That’s a shame, because she’s just itching to know you.”
    Houser set the barrel of the pistol against Whistler’s forehead. Whistler cried out. Houser could sense eyes on him, from the church, from the playground, and the surrounding buildings. He paid them no attention.
    While he didn’t want to do this in front of kids, scarring them for life, the alternative was wasting time he might not have bringing Whistler somewhere where they could talk.
    Time for talking was running out.
    Now was time for truth telling.
    “You ever see a gunshot wound to the head up close?” Houser asked. “I do love Betty, but she’s a messy bitch. Guess you don’t need to care about that. It’s not like you’ll have to clean up the mess.”
    “Please,” Whistler whimpered.
    “I’m gonna count to five, Larry. And then I’m gonna stop counting, and I’m gonna let Betty get her way.
    “No!”Whistler cried louder, trying again to squirm away.
    Houser pushed the gun harder against his head, pressing his weight even more onto the man’s chest.
    “Five!”
    “No, no! Please, I don’t know anything.”
    “Four!”
    “Please. I never touched her. All I did was look.”
    “Three!”
    Whistler let out a long wail, running out of excuses.
    “Two.”
    “I swear!”
    “Now or never, Larry!” Houser yelled.
    And then Houser heard the yell behind him.
    “Put the gun down!”
    Houser turned to see a police officer and two Paladin guards, weapons drawn and every gun aimed at him.
    Fuck.

    * * * *

CHAPTER 6 — Cassidy Hughes

    11:30 a.m.

    Jon and Cassidy were standing beneath the fluttering flag at the police station, the cold wind biting the both of them as a dark cloud loomed on the horizon. She was thankful for his presence, and grateful she was too tired and too worried about Emma to properly hate him.
    They were waiting for Sgt. Sam Johnson to finish questioning Whistler and for Chief Brady to let Houser go from the holding cell. She was anxious, but Jon had a surprisingly calming effect on her. And so far, she’d been able to avoid the craving for the pill in her pocket.
    Cassidy lit her Marlboro Light, took a drag, then offered the pack to Jon. He shook his head. “What, you’re too good to smoke now?”
    Jon said, “Not too good to smoke, just don’t want to. I quit a few years back.”
    “You were chain smoking in Bullocks .”
    Jon laughed. “That’s a movie, Cass. I’ll smoke for a movie, especially because it pisses the MPAA off, and a bunch of the whinier bitches in Hollywood, which always makes me happy.” He looked at Cassidy, realization lighting his face. “You saw Bullocks ?”
    She looked down, embarrassed, then laughed, “Yeah,” she said.