Chapter 30 Rafe #2
“Don’t move. Don’t speak. We have some questions for you.”
“What? But you… you’re the FBI guy. Do you have a warrant? What are you doing here?”
“I’m not here in my official capacity, and we don’t need a warrant. We’re going to rely on your cooperation unless you want trouble.”
Richard turned and started to run. Zach put a bullet in the wall right above his head. He dropped to the floor, and I was on him.
I was so fucking ready for a fight. He got to his feet, and I slammed my fist into his abdomen.
He tried to head-butt me, but I caught his head in a vicious grip.
I wanted to break his fucking neck, but we needed information first. So I used my grip to slam him into the wall.
The fucker shook it off and came at me again.
I landed a blow to his chin that sent him sailing back.
He slid down the wall, and I pinned him to the floor with my foot on his chest. “Had enough?”
“Get out.”
“Not until we get the information we came for.” I pulled out my gun and pointed it at his head. “We can do this the easy way, or it can hurt. A lot.”
He snarled at me. “What do you want?”
“Where’s Ivanov?”
The color drained from Richard’s face. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
I pressed harder on his chest. “Don’t lie to me. Or things are going to get really bad for you.”
Zach pulled out a chair from the kitchen table, and I gestured toward it. “Sit down. Don’t try to run, or you’ll regret it. I’m in a bad mood, and I know so many places to shoot you and keep you alive long enough to get what I want.”
He glared at me. “You’re a fucking psycho.”
“Yes. Now, sit.”
He did as I said, and Zach pulled duct tape from his pocket and secured Richard’s wrists to the arms of the chair and his ankles to the legs. Then Zach leaned against the wall and gestured toward him. “He’s all yours.”
I smiled, and Richard shook his head. “This guy’s crazy.”
“I know,” Zach said.
I shoved my gun in the back of my waistband and pulled a knife from a wrist sheath. “Now. I hope you’ll rethink your answer to my last question.” I circled him, dragging the tip of the knife along his cheek, then, as I got behind him, I pressed it to his throat. “Where’s Ivanov?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Mmm. Do better.” I pressed the knife into his skin enough to give him a shallow cut. “Oh dear. You’re bleeding. I wonder how many tiny cuts I have to make until it’s enough for you to bleed out. I’ve never done that experiment. Tonight would be a great time to find out.”
“Stop. He’ll kill me.”
I laughed. “So will I. Will he be as nice about it as I will?”
“I don’t know where he is.”
I moved in front of him and squatted down so we were eye to eye. “How does he contact you?”
“He doesn’t directly. There’s a guy who sends me messages.”
I dragged the knife along his leg, slicing through his pants. He drew in a sharp breath. “How did you get connected to Ivanov?”
“I… met him at a party.”
I pressed harder, slicing the skin of his inner thighs, and he cried out. “I know the kind of parties he throws. What were you doing there?”
He shook his head frantically. “Um… it wasn’t like that. I didn’t… I wasn’t there to…”
I leaned in and whispered in his ear. “You’re lying. Tape, please.” I held a hand out to Zach. He passed me the tape. I tore off a piece and pressed it over the man’s mouth.
His eyes went wide as I sliced through the duct tape at one wrist, grabbed his hand, and twisted it so I could hold it flat to the table. With no warning, I brought the knife down and chopped off his pinky. He tried to scream as blood poured out over the table.
“Ugh. You’re making such a mess.” I pulled out a lighter and cauterized the wound. Tears ran down his face as he kept trying to scream. Zach held his chair in place as he fought, rocking from side to side.
“Ready to talk again?” He nodded, and I ripped the tape from his mouth. “That was fun. I can keep this up all night.”
“No.” He shook his head. “No.”
“Ivanov should really find stronger assistants. You’re pathetic.”
“Fuck you.”
I studied him for a moment, then frowned. “No, he’s more my type.” I tilted my head toward Zach, who laughed. I met his gaze, and he smiled at me. If I’d had any doubt before, I knew for certain now that he was the one.
I loved how scared Richard looked. He wasn’t getting out of here alive, no matter what he told us, but I needed more information. “Where was the party?”
“A house in Metairie.”
I glanced at Zach, and he nodded. Ivanov had been right here under our noses. “Be more specific.”
Richard gave the address.
“Who’s your contact?”
I didn’t recognize the name, but Zach entered it into his phone.
“How does he contact you?”
“He—he texts me.”
“Where’s your phone?”
“On the coffee table.”
Zach retrieved it and held it to Richard’s face. It opened, and Zach pulled up his contacts. “What do you call him?”
“John M.”
“Got it,” Zach said.
“Phone code.”
He said the numbers. Zach confirmed that it worked.
“Good. We wouldn’t want to have to take your head with us,” I said as I raised my gun.
“What? No!” Richard screamed. “I gave you what you wanted. I gave you everything!”
“And Ivanov would kill you in a much worse way. Since you were a good boy, I’ll make it easier and deprive him of the pleasure.”
I shot him through the forehead, and Zach caught the chair as he fell to the side.
For the first time, I realized Zach hadn’t complained once about my thirst for blood. “You didn’t stop me.”
He smiled. “No. He partied with Ivanov. He worked for him, but worse—he was trying to implicate you. He got what he deserved. Probably less.”
“You really do like to break the rules.”
“I told you so.”