by Mike Ramon
I’ll kill you, motherfucker.”
Paul started pulling out of the parking space.
“I’m sure you would,” Paul said. “Or you would try to, anyway. Fathers love their daughters. I haven’t done anything to Laurie, Walter.”
“How do I know that you’re telling the truth?”
“You’re just gonna have to take my word for it, I guess,” Paul said as he pulled out into the street.
As they drove Paul repeated what he said after Walter Fontana had threatened him:
“Fathers love their daughters.”
11
Paul leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. He looked down at his shirt; there was a bloodstain on it. It wasn’t his blood. Walter Fontana had fought when Paul tried to secure him to the table with the lashing straps. Now Fontana was lying on the same table that Paul had used to cut the sheet metal; he was properly secured, with one strap running across his upper arms and chest, one across is lower arms and stomach, and one across his legs. Fontana had a small gash on his forehead, and he was trying to talk through the rag that Paul had stuffed in his mouth.
“Shut up, you stupid son of a bitch,” Paul said.
The man continued trying to speak, his voice muffled and unintelligible, until he started to gag.
“See; that’s what you get,” Paul said. “Look at you now.”
Fontana continued to gag. Paul moved to the table and took the rag out of the man’s mouth. Fontana had a coughing fit. Paul tossed the rag on the ground, kicking it away with his foot. Fontana managed to get his coughing under control.
“Where’s Laurie?” Fontana asked. “You said you would take me to my daughter.”
“Shut up.”
“I want to see my daughter!”
Paul thought for a second.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
As Paul headed up the stairs Fontana yelled after him. Paul shut the basement door, and the captive man’s voice was cut off. Paul went up to the second floor and used his key to unlock the guest bedroom. When he entered the room Laurie was sitting cross-legged on the bed, listening to the radio. She looked up at him. Paul went over to the dresser, grabbed one of the books, and brought it to her on the bed. He reached down and shut off the radio, and handed the girl the book.
“Listen,” he said. “When I walk out of here I want you to start reading. Start at the beginning of a chapter--it doesn’t matter which one--and read out loud until you finish the chapter. Out loud, understand?
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
Paul made sure to turn the baby monitor on before he left the room. After he locked the door he put his ear up to the door, and he heard Laurie’s muffled voice as she started to read. He went down to the first floor and grabbed the receiver off the kitchen counter, taking it downstairs with him. As he came down the stairs Fontana started hurling abuse at him. Paul came up to the table and delivered a blow to the side of the man’s head.
“Shut up and listen,” Paul demanded.
Paul turned on the receiver unit, and Laurie’s voice came out of it as she continued reading the book.
“Laurie. Laurie! Where are you, baby? Laurie!”
“She can’t hear you,” Paul said. “This thing only works one way.”
Fontana struggled against the straps.
“Fuck!” he yelled. “Let me go. I’ll tear you apart, you cocksucker!”
Paul turned off the receiver and set it on the floor.
“Be quiet. It’s my turn to talk.”
Fontana started to say something else, and Paul gave him another blow to the head. The man shut up.
Paul leaned over the bound man.
“Look at me,” Paul said.
Fontana looked up at him.
“Think really hard. Where have you seen me before?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think,” Paul said. “It was ten years ago. We only saw each other once.”
“If we only saw each other one time, and it was ten years ago, why in the hell should I remember you?”
“I remember you. I’ve never forgotten your face.”
“Good for you.”
Paul slapped the man hard.
“You were driving a blue Ford Taurus. Do you remember that?”
“A blue what? I’ve never owned a Ford Taurus.”
“I don’t know if you owned it, but you were driving it.”
“What is this about?” Fontana asked. “What, did some asshole in a blue Taurus cut you off on the highway ten years ago, and you’ve been obsessed with it ever since?”
Paul laughed.
“You’re good. Really good. I’m sure you’re good at convincing everybody that you’re a good man. A family man. But I know what you really are.”
“What am I?”
“You had a blue Taurus,” Paul said, ignoring the question. “You were looking under the hood, acting like there was something wrong with it. I told you that you should call for a tow truck, and you said that your luck was so bad that the tow truck would get a flat tire before it got to you. Does any of this ring a bell?”
“No.”
“Fuck you. I know you. I remember you. There’s no point in lying now. There’s no way out for you, but your can still save your daughter.”
Fontana’s eyes narrowed at that.
“Is that a threat? Are you saying that you’ll hurt my daughter of I don’t tell you what you want to hear?”
“Just don’t lie. Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”
Paul moved away from the table; when he came back he was dragging a tool box along the floor. He rooted around inside the box and took out a pair of pliers.
“What did you do with my daughter?” Paul asked.
“I don’t do anything. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know your daughter, man.”
Paul set the pliers down on the edge of the table long enough to rip the man’s shirt open, then he used the pliers to pinch a patch of skin on Fontana’s chest, twisting it. Fontana screamed out in pain. Paul eased off, releasing the bit of ski from the teeth of the pliers.
“Tell the truth,” Paul said. “You were driving a blue Taurus. You took my daughter.”
“Please don’t do this. I’m sorry for whatever happened to you and your family, but it had nothing to do with me.”
Paul reached over with the pliers again.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait!”
Paul paused.
“I know that you think you recognize me, but I’m telling you, you’ve got the wrong guy. You said it’s been ten years. That’s a long time, man. Especially if you only saw a guy one time. Maybe your memory isn’t as good as you thought it was.”
Paul used the pliers again, and again Fontana screamed. After Paul released him the man let out a pathetic whining sound.
“Please stop,” Fontana pleaded through sobs. “Please.”
“Tell me what you did, and this will all stop. Your daughter can go home. Maybe even you can.”
This was a lie; Paul had no intention of letting the man go.
“I can’t tell you that I did something that I didn’t do,” Fontana said. “I swear to God that I never hurt anybody. I never took anybody’s kid. I’m just a guy. I go to work, I don’t bother anybody. If you knew me you would know that I could never hurt a kid. I just want to take my daughter home. My wife is pregnant. I’m gonna have a son.”
Paul put the pliers back in the tool box. He took out a hammer, holding it up for the other man to see.
“I’m going to bust you up with this thing if you don’t start telling me the truth. Do you hear me?”
“Don’t. You’ve got the wrong guy. Don’t, no don’t, wait!”
Paul landed five blows along the man’s legs. Fontana’s wails were terrible. Tears streamed from his eyes.
“Please. Please, no more.”
“Tell me the truth,” Paul said. “That’s all.”
“I told you the truth already, and you
hit me with a fucking hammer.”
“You saw that my daughter was alone and you took her. Say it.”
“I can’t say that. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Paul used the hammer to smash Fontana’s left hand several times.
“Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!” Paul yelled with each blow.
But Walter Fontana wouldn’t tell him. He insisted that he wasn’t the man who had taken Paul’s daughter. After the pliers and the hammers, after the WD40 sprayed into his mouth, even after the jabs to the arms with a screwdriver, he still denied that he was Blue Taurus. Paul was out of breath, sweaty and tired, frustrated at his inability to break the man. Paul hovered over Fontana, who was bleeding from several places.
“I’m tired of this shit,” Paul said. “You’re gonna admit what you did.”
“Fuck you, you psycho motherfucker.”
Fontana’s voice was hoarse, choked.
Somewhere inside of Paul, buried deep in his mind beneath the hate and the rage, there was a growing doubt. What if this wasn’t the man with the blue Taurus? After ten years of wanting to know what had happened to Sam, wasn’t it possible that his mind had made a false connection?
No. He couldn’t allow himself to think that. It was too late for doubts.
“All right,” Paul said. “Let’s see what you have to say after this.”
Paul got the receiver to the baby monitor and set it on the table, turning it on. He walked away from the table and hurried up the stairs. From where he lay on the table, bleeding and broken, Walter Fontana listened to dead air coming from the baby monitor. Then he heard the sound of a lock being turned, of a door opening. He heard Laurie’s voice start to speak, but then it was silenced.
“Laurie! Leave my daughter alone, you sick fuck!”
He remembered Paul telling him that the monitor only worked one way, but he yelled anyway.
The silence coming from
