Page 58 of Forensics of a Fable

“It is,” Bel said, testing her approach. Placating him seemed to have a favorable effect, but she wondered how gently reprimanding him would affect him. Would it send him into a rage, or would it cause him to bow and scrape to regain her favor? How best could she manipulate this delusional man? By catering to his every word and whim or by asserting herself? Did he want a submissive woman or one of strength who could guide his insecure nature?

“So, you aren’t upset that this furniture is store-bought?” he asked, and Bel filed the result of her test away for later.

“I don’t mind,” she said, finishing her food. Her body had finally started to warm up, and Abel seemed content to stay on his side of the table. Her situation was by no means good, but it could be worse. “How did you get the Pentobarbital?”she pressed. “That probably took a lot of smart planning,” she added, her voice sweet and encouraging as she fed him what he longed to hear.

“It did.” He smiled. “Foley Locks was easy to manipulate, though. He wanted money to party, so I visited the vet after finding a stray cat. It was a neighbor’s pet, but Brick House didn’t know that. I waltzed in there as the Good Samaritan, and I followed the staff around for a tour. They were so helpful, and then all I had to do was pay Locks to break in. He’s also how I found Rebecca and Alana. Plus my neighbors were so excited I found their cat that they thanked me with cash. It worked out nicely.”

Bel settled back in her seat. It made sense now why Abel had the Pentobarbital without a connection to Brick House Veterinary. The stray belonged to a family, so it would be their information in the system, not his.

“Why the Reale Estate?” she asked. “Why leave the girls there?”

“Because that arrogant Eamon Stone tried to steal you from me.” Abel’s eyes darkened. “He thought he could breeze into town with his millions and just take whatever he wanted. I wanted him to pay. I wanted him to suffer. Unfortunately, his money kept him from being charged with their murders.” Abel cursed, the violence of his voice at odds with his normally docile behavior. “I’d hoped their deaths would ruin him. Perhaps taking you will finally condemn that horrible man to the punishment he deserves.”

“Is that where we are now?” Bel asked. “Am I on the Reale Estate to punish him?” She needed to know where she was. She needed to know if Eamon was searching in the right place for her, but the second the question escaped her lips, she knew she’d made a mistake.

A scowl contorted Abel’s features, and he jerked to a stand. “You’re not interested in me, are you?” he spat, snatching the empty bowl from her. “You’re trying to detective me. You’re trying to figure out where you are so you can escape.” He moved toward the exit, and Bel clenched her fists to keep from crying. She’d pushed too far, stepped over the line, and she would undoubtedly pay for this misstep.

“He’ll never find you,” Abel said. “I made sure of that. You’re mine.”

And with that, he stormed out of the room, locking the door behind him. He did not come back for the rest of the day. He left her alone for so long that she lost track of time.

The lock rattled,and Bel almost cried at the sound. There was little light in the basement and no clock. She didn’t know how long he’d left her alone, only that she was starving. Thankfully, the bathroom sink worked, and she had access to water, but her stomach felt like it was eating itself. She had nothing to do locked in the dark. Nothing except worry about her dog, her dad, and her partner. Was Cerberus alive? If Abel had hurt him, she would kill the man with her bare hands. She prayed someone had found her dog in the woods. Prayed that Eamon or Violet or her father had taken him home with them. She worried about what her family was going through with her missing. She’d lost track of the days, Abel never telling her how long she’d been unconscious. For all her father knew, she wasdead in a hidden cabin. Was Gold dead in a cabin? Had Abel killed her when he realized he took the wrong girl?

The scent of oatmeal hit her nose as the lights flipped on, and she fought her tears into submission. She wouldn’t let him see her weakness. He would not break her. She’d survived worse, and she would endure until Eamon found her. He was coming for her. She belonged to him, after all. He’d claimed her, swearing himself to her in the same breath. Yes, Eamon Stone was coming.

“I’m so sorry, Bel,” Abel said, on the verge of tears, and his greeting surprised her. He placed a bowl of oatmeal down before her chair, along with a disposable cup of what smelled like coffee, as if it was a peace offering. “I feel terrible. I hate punishing you, I really do, so please stop misbehaving. I hate watching you suffer.” He gestured to the cup with a hesitant smile. “It’s vanilla coffee. It’s not from The Espresso Shot. I don’t drink that, so people would ask questions, but I ordered the grinds online and made it myself since I know it’s your favorite. It’s a special treat to say I’m sorry, but if you behave, I could make it for you every day. Would you enjoy that?”

“Yes.” Bel nodded, longing to devour the food but forcing herself to exhibit restraint.

“Good, good. Come eat.” He sat down across from her, and she finally moved to the table. She was so hungry that she shoved a bite into her mouth before realizing that she hadn’t asked him to test it first. For an agonizing moment, she feared her mistake would cost her her life, but then Abel nudged the coffee closer to her with excitement. He genuinely wanted her to taste it, and she figured he wouldn’t be this eager to apologize for his sins if he was poisoning her.

“Is it good?” he asked as she took a sip. The creamer tasted like a cheap powdered mix, and the vanilla coffee had anartificial flavor. Yet after days without caffeine, it was almost the best cup she’d ever drunk.

“Yes, thank you,” Bel said softly, and Abel’s face lit up.

“Oh, I’m so glad. Please say you’ll be good because I like giving you nice things. I can make you coffee every day,” he said it as if he was offering her the world. “You enjoy reading, so I’ll bring you books if you don’t cause problems. I can get you a toy dog too. There’s no room for a pet here, but a stuffed animal would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Bel’s heart ached. No, it wouldn’t be nice. She wanted Cerberus. She missed her furry soulmate, and she longed to ask Abel if her beloved pitbull was okay, but she was terrified of having him abandon her without food again.

“I do like books,” she said instead.

“I can get you different meals, too. Tell me what you like, and I’ll buy it for you. Would you like that?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Then promise you’ll be a good girl. I want to make you happy here with me. So, can you do that? Can you behave?”

“Yes.” She would play his games. “Yes, I can.”

For a week,Bel played by his rules, and for a week, Abel kept his word. He brought her oatmeal and artificial-tasting vanilla coffee every morning. He made either peanut butter and jelly or chicken salad sandwiches for lunch, but he always let her make requests for dinner. They came in the form of microwaveable meals, but at least she got to pick her favorites while being fed three times a day.

Two days after their peace negotiations, Abel brought her a pile of paperbacks, obviously aware that a hardcover was aweapon in her hands, and Bel let that fantasy play out in her mind often. The books he bought her were the last novels she would pick for herself, though. Most were military or espionage thrillers, and she wondered if he had no clue what women enjoyed reading or if he was flying under the radar by buying fiction people associated him with. Bel read every single one despite the genre. The thick books were better than staring at the walls, and it seemed to please him that she appreciated his gifts. The more she read, the more he brought. The more she ate, the more food he put on her plate, and Bel ate and read and listened. He never touched her, which she was thankful for, and she wondered if it was because he was afraid she could overpower him or if he simply liked the company. Regardless of his reasoning, she didn’t push him. She couldn’t allow him to feel comfortable crossing that line. So, she simply sat and learned, slowly testing the limit so he wouldn’t suspect what she was doing.

But a week had passed since she was taken, probably longer because she’d lost time when she was unconscious. A week where Eamon hadn’t rescued her. A week where Sherriff Griffin hadn’t found her. Abel hadn’t answered her question when she asked if they were on the Reale Estate, which she took to mean they weren’t. It wasn’t a lot of information, but it was a start. Her plan was slow going, but it had a beginning. If no one was coming for her, her salvation rested solely on her shoulders. Salvation that started with testing his limits, gaining his trust, learning his habits. She answered his questions and conversed with him with kindness while saying little of herself. Every conversation convinced him she enjoyed his presence, and he rewarded her for it, but what he didn’t realize was that she was manipulating him. She was drawing him in, a fly in her web, and nothing eluded her detective’s eye. Bel memorized his schedule and tells. She learned where he kept the keys on his body. Shestudied his movements, his strengths and weaknesses, and she played his games better than him. It had been a week, and no one had come for her. She could hope someone would, but as the days ticked by, she realized it was up to her to escape this hell. So, she waited for the day Abel made a mistake. Men like him always did. They got tired, lazy, comfortable, and when that happened, they let their guard down and slipped up. He would mess up one day, and when he did. Bel would be waiting.

“She’s been missingfor two weeks. Two Weeks!” Eamon punched a tree in frustration, the wood splintering to dust under his fist. Sweat dripped down his bare torso, and his chest heaved from the grueling pace he’d set. For two weeks, he’d raced into the woods, searching every square inch of the Reale property before branching out into the surrounding land, but his efforts had been for naught. Bel was gone.

Eamon turned around to face the massive bear panting for breath, and Ewan’s eyes brimmed with discouragement as he stepped closer. The two men had done what few predators had ever accomplished. They’d worked together, forming an almost friendly bond, but regardless of their newfound peace, their efforts were useless. Bel had vanished.

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