Page 56 of Forensics of a Fable

“Now, Bel… Can I call you Bel? I normally call you detective, but I would like to think we’re past that?” Abel asked calmly. “You need to eat. It’s been a long time since your last meal.”

“I would rather starve than eat that poison,” she spat.

“Bel, I don’t wish to argue with you. Don’t make this harder for yourself.”

“No, I want it hard. You may have killed those girls. You might kill me too, but I’ll be damned if I let you take me without a fight.”

“Bel, I don’t want to do this.”

“Do what? Get your hands dirty?” she taunted.

“Hurt you.”

She scoffed at his statement.

“Bel, I’m getting irritated. Come here and eat.”

“No.”

“I said eat!” his voice escalated.

“Never.” Bel’s voice remained calm, and it pushed Abel over the edge. He captured her by the hair and pulled her to the table. Bel let him drag her, but the instant the porridge was in reach, she lunged for it. With one swift movement, she seized the bowl and threw it. The creamy oats dripped down his face, blinding him, and she punched him in the nose. Blood exploded from the violence of the impact, but Bel didn’t relent. She launched herself at him and managed a second punch, her hands slick with crimson oats, but she didn’t stop. Unlike Abel, who walked away from witnessing the harshness of death, she had been forged in its dark furnace. She’d looked evil in the eyes before and survived. She would do it again.

Abel howled as Bel pulled back for another blow, but he jumped out of her reach. The chain bit into her already bruised flesh, and she collapsed against the table as it yanked her feet from beneath her. Her head smacked the corner with a sickening thud, and as she fumbled to regain her footing, a sharp prick stung her neck. Bel cursed, but it was too late. Her world went dark.

Bel’s eyelidsfelt as if someone had glued them shut, and it took an unusual effort to open her eyes. The world was blurry, and her head thick. Every inch of her was sluggish, and for hazy minutes, blinking was all she could manage. She took stock of her body as her senses returned. Fabric rested against her skin, and soft padding lay beneath her. The air was warm, but it held a stale, mildly unpleasant scent. Light fell on her from above, but even with her blurred vision, she knew it wasn’t natural but fluorescent. She was inside, somewhere furnished with electricity, and that unexpected reality gave her the final push to consciousness.

She jerked to a seat and shoved her back against the wall. By the ache in her ankle, she knew she was still chained to thebed, placing her at a severe disadvantage, and the last thing she needed was Abel flanking her again.

Movement caught her attention, and she stiffened as she noticed Abel sitting at the table. He occupied the chair in front of the door, the one beyond her reach, and despite the magnitude of her situation, she couldn’t help but feel smug at the bandage on his nose. His left eye was swollen as well, and Bel hoped he would think twice about getting close to her again. The chain and the drugs gave him the upper hand, but she was a quick study. She’d already granted him two opportunities to catch her unaware. There would not be a third.

“Hello, detec… Bel,” Abel said, pushing a bowl toward the seat intended for her. “I would like to start over. Can we do that?”

Bel studied him, her mind running through her strategy. Aggression wouldn’t work, not with her chained and caged like an animal. She was also well aware of the fact that when she passed out, she’d been wearing a blood and porridge-stained nightgown with purple flowers. She wore a clean one now, the color a faded cream with pink and yellow flowers. Abel had changed her for a second time, thankfully leaving her undergarments in place, but still, he had undressed her while she slept. She couldn’t let that happen again, couldn’t let him incapacitate her. This situation needed a different approach, and she would play the role of detective until she found his weakness.

Without a word, she stood and walked to the table, forcing herself not to limp despite the pain. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how his chains affected her.

“Here.” Abel shoved the cereal at her as she sat, but she made no move to pick up the provided spoon. “You must be hungry.”

“I’m not.” Bel crossed her arms.

“You don’t have to worry,” he said. “I would never hurt you. This is just breakfast.”

“Is that how you convinced Alana Drie and Rebecca Kolm to eat the porridge?” she asked. “Did you hold them here, feigning pleasantries? Did you offer them food when they were starving, only to watch them die from the poison?”

“You’re the only one who has been here,” Abel answered. “I wouldn’t bring the others here because I made this for you. Everything I’ve done is for you.”

Bel kept her face neutral despite her confusion. She assumed she was his just right. His final victim, but so far, nothing lined up with their profile of the killer.

“How is this for me?” she asked. “How is killing girls for me?”

“It was my love letter to you.” Abel’s eyes brightened as he spoke, and Bel filed that information away. He liked when she showed an interest. “One final and interesting case before you retire here with me. You’re a wonderful detective, and I wanted to give you a sendoff before we started our lives together.”

“A love letter?” Bel tried not to choke on the words.

“Yes, don’t you see? I’ve been in love with you since you moved to Bajka. You’re perfect for me. But then there was Garrett. Emily Kaffe kept teasing you about him while I was in the shop, and it killed me. I hated him. I hated that he took you from me, but then he died. That was a lucky break. You would finally be mine.”

Bel tightened her arms over her chest to keep from launching herself across the table. She couldn’t reach him, but lord, how she longed to try for how he spoke about Garrett. His death wasn’t lucky. It destroyed her. She always thought Abel was odd, but how had she missed the madman wandering among them?

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