Arsonist

CHAPTER 40

“This is fucking bullshit!”

Stanton ducked a can of cola as Tabitha threw it at him. He approached her and grabbed her arms, sitting her down on the couch provided in the lounge. He stood over her as she folded her arms and sat back, anger raging in her face.

“It’s for your own safety. And if you throw anything at me again, you’ll be sitting in a cell instead of in the lounge.”

“Good, I don’t give a shit. Put me wherever you want, faggot.”

“It’s almost six o’clock. Is your family all going to be home at this time?”

“Fuck you.”

He bent down, looking her in the eyes. “Tabitha, I’m trying to save your life and the lives of your family. Now please, it’s very important. Is your family going to be home?”

She scoffed. “Yes.”

There was a knock at the door. Childs opened it and stepped inside. He shut the door behind him so no one could hear and walked over, glancing down at Tabitha before turning to Stanton.

“The family’s at Scripps right now. They’re safe but they were found tied up in the living room.”

Stanton looked to Tabitha and her eyes went wide as she realized which family they were talking about.

“He came to my house?” she said quietly. “That guy came to my house?”

Childs said, “He almost killed your family. Jon Stanton just saved your life. Maybe a thank you is in order instead of throwing shit at him.”

Childs turned and left as Tabitha stared blankly at the walls before tears ran down her cheeks. She put her hands to her face and began to cry. Stanton sat down next to her and calmly waited until she was ready. A moment passed before she leaned over on his shoulder. He let her cry it out and when she had regained control of herself he stood up.

“I’ll take you to your family.”

They drove in silence all the way to the hospital and Stanton parked in handicap parking before walking her to the ER. Her family was gathered in the same room, the father in a bed with a bandage around his upper skull. The rest of the family sat quietly until they saw Tabitha. She ran to her mother and they hugged and began crying. Stanton stepped outside the room.

A uniform was outside sitting in a chair. He was reading a Rolling Stone and not paying attention to what was going on in the room. Stanton leaned down in front of him so he could see his eyes.

“The man who’s after this family, he won’t care that there’s a policeman outside the room. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t let them out of your sight. If they want to go home, tell them they can’t yet and that they’ll have to sleep in a hotel. Don’t even let them in to get clothes. He may have wired the house with explosives.”

“I won’t let anything happen to them, Detective.”

“I know you won’t. Thank you.”

As he was already here, Stanton decided to visit Gunn. He went up to his floor and walked into the room without knocking. Gunn was lying in the bed, staring up at a television that was blaring a game show, something set in a classroom with Jeff Foxworthy as the host. Stanton pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down. Gunn didn’t move or say anything.

After a long while, he finally said, “Did you bring me anythin’?”

“Like what?”

“Like some beer? I can’t get any booze in here.”

“You know I wouldn’t buy that for you.”

“I know. Just thought I’d ask.” He turned and looked at him. “You look like shit, Johnny. You gettin’ enough sleep?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

Stanton leaned back in the chair and put his feet up on the edge of the bed. He looked to the television. A woman in a tight dress answered that the capital of New York was Manhattan and lost all the money she had made. A young boy to the right of her shook his head in amazement.

“Did you mean what you said, Stephen? That you’re gonna go after the people that put you in here?”

“If I say no will you stop askin’?”

“Probably not.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“I’m chasing down the owner of the car. It belongs to a woman who by all accounts has disappeared. I think if I can find her though I can find the men that shot you.”

Gunn shrugged. “I ain’t too worried about it.”

Stanton removed his feet from the edge of the bed and leaned forward. “There’s lines that once we cross they disappear, Stephen. They won’t be there anymore and we just end up becoming exactly what we hate.”

“Thanks for the advice, Ma.”

Stanton rose, placing his hand on Gunn’s forearm. “I’m your partner. I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“What the fuck? What are we on a fuckin’ date or somethin’? Get your hand off me, Jon. I ain’t gonna do shit ‘cause I don’t know shit. I know about as much as you do about who shot me.”

“You’re lying, I can tell.”

“Fuck you, Jon. The world ain’t black and white, good and evil, all right. Get off your Jesus complex bullshit and come down to earth with the rest of us.”

“Jesus saved my life, Stephen. Do you believe me when I tell you that?”

“Sure, why not. Weirder shit’s happened.” He coughed. “Ah, my fuckin’ ribs. You’re aggravatin’ me, man. I think I should get some rest.”

“If you need anything, you call me.”

Gunn sighed. He held up his hand, knuckles out and Stanton bumped it with his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be an asshole.”

“Can’t change who you are,” Stanton said.

Gunn shrugged. “Keep me up to date on that arson shit, will ya? It’s been on the news.”

“I will.”

“And be fuckin’ careful. This guy sounds like one sick fuck.”