Chapter Fourteen
RHYS
THE ARREST report in my inbox this morning detailed the apprehension of a man who was caught with a shit-ton of fentanyl-laced heroin in his car. Probably from our dead guy’s house. He’s also one of the men Ms. Harlow saw outside the club.
Sanders is going with me to the jail to talk to this guy. He’s been an ass all week, like he wasn’t the one to make a dick of himself.
As long as he doesn’t hinder anything while he’s acting like a little bitch, I don’t give a fuck if he curls up in a corner with a safety blanket to suck his thumb. If I could take Corbett with me, I would, but Sanders has rank and is deeper into the case than Corbett.
I need to know if this guy we’re going to see is who was sent to Ms. Harlow’s house. I also need to get him wired.
Sanders is flipping through the file in his lap. “Looks like they’ve booked him on possession, intent to distribute, aggravated trafficking, and evasion since he ran. All of that with his priors probably rules out bail, so he’s stuck for the time being.”
We both watched the detectives interrogating him at the city jail on the video file before we left. “He’s got a fucking attitude.”
He closes the folder and tosses it on the dash. “Don’t they all?”
“You want to do the usual?”
He’s looking out the window with his palm on his chin. “Sure.”
Fucking pussy.
Ignoring his silent attitude, my mind drifts to the beauty who was standing in my kitchen drinking her coffee this morning. Even fresh out of bed with sheet creases on her cheek, she’s fucking beautiful.
Swan is at my house, since she was so upset over the change in guard the day before yesterday, and agreed to stay with her yesterday and today.
Since I kissed her head, I’ve been trying to keep things between us professional, if not distant. I’ve tried leaving early and getting back late to avoid any contact with her, but that doesn’t mean my mind doesn’t wander to her throughout the day.
Shock gripped me when I realized just how easy and normal it felt to offer her comfort and affection, but when I felt her body go rigid, I couldn’t get away fast enough. Not because I wanted to, but because I was fucking terrified she might take offense.
Seeing her so upset and trying to hide it nearly killed me, and I want to do whatever I can to make things as easy on her as I can. As professionally as I can. It also stings that part of her unhappiness stems from being stuck with me.
The interrogation room the dealer’s in is a small room with a table and three chairs. Simple and plain. He looks cocky as fuck when Sanders and I walk in, but I just toss the folder full of his report on the table and sit in the chair across from him without looking at him.
Sanders does his usual wall-lean with his arms crossed over his chest behind me, it’s something he’s always done. He says if he acts disinterested, it makes the perp open up more, and damned if he isn’t right. It works every time.
I still haven’t looked at the fucker yet, but when I flip open the folder and act like I’m seeing his name for the first time, I lift my eyes to him. “Devlin Finney?”
He looks like he’s in his mid-twenties. His hair is dark blond and greasy, touching his shoulders.
He rolls his brown eyes and smirks. “You know who I fucking am, cut the cop bullshit and get to what you want to say. I wanna take a nap.” He leans back in his seat and swipes his nose with his thumb when he looks at the wall.
I stare at him until I see a little bit of unease on his face. He tries to cover it up. “I’m Special Agent in Charge Rhys Abbot with the FBI, and this is Senior Special Agent Sanders. We’ve been looking for you.”
“Whooptie-fuckin’-do, get in line. What d’ya want?”
Without taking my eyes off him, I put my hand on the table and tap the folder with my index finger. “This is an impressive list of charges.”
“I aim to please.” He fans his arms out to his sides like he’s going to take a bow.
Leaning back in my chair, I let my knees fall apart like I own the place to take up as much space as possible, it sometimes makes people uncomfortable. “I want to talk to you about where you were the night of July twentieth.”
He scoffs. “I was at home. In bed.”
He’s not even trying to be convincing, he’s being as sarcastic and condescending as possible.
“Is there anyone who can back that up?”
He smiles, his brown eyes full of mockery. “My dog.”
Maintaining my stare, I go to the next question. “What about the next day, on the twenty-first?”
He haughtily cups his chin with his fingers and looks up at the ceiling like he’s thinking. “Well, first I had brunch with the mayor, then I went for a walk through downtown to smell the roses.” He laughs and sets his hand on the table. “Man, whatever you’re trying to pin on me aint gonna stick.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why is that?”
He lifts his eyebrows and smirks. “’Cause my boss is everywhere. You can’t stick nothin’ on me.”
“Is that so? Who’s your boss?”
“Wouldn’t you like to…”
Behind me, Sanders interrupts him and pushes off the wall. “Just tell him we’re charging him with murder so we can get out of here. I’m fucking hungry.”
Finney’s eyes go wide as all humor falls from his face. “I didn’t fuckin’ kill nobody.”
Got him.
“I beg to differ. We got you outside on Second and Elgin stabbing a man nearly in the middle of the street.” It’s my turn to lean back in my chair and look bored.
He’s quiet. I can see the wheels turning as he considers what he’s going to say. If he says he wasn’t the one who stabbed him, it puts him at the scene.
I go on. “The same man who was mixing at his house. By the state of his house, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess it was unauthorized. And then there’s the issue of the drugs from his house in the trunk of your car.”
A sheen of sweat is on his forehead, and he’s rolling his neck from one shoulder to the other, but he’s trying to act uninterested. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Fuck me, why do we have to jump through all these hoops, just tell him we’ve got surveillance across the street and an eyewitness so I can get some fucking lunch.” Sanders says behind me, raising his voice.
He may be an asshole, but he’s good at interrogation.
I watch the moment Finney realizes he’s busted.
He turns his head to look at the other wall in irritation before he looks back at me.
“What eyewitness? You mean that sexy little blonde? I’d like to get me a piece of that.
She better watch her back ‘cause she’s about to get fucked ten ways from Sunday, if you know what I mean. ”
The blood in my veins runs white-hot with rage as I look at him. It takes everything I have not to jump the fucking table and rip his esophagus out with my bare fucking hands. I’m so pissed that I don’t realize I’ve clenched my fist lying on the table.
Finney looks down at my fist, and a slow smirk forms on his face before he looks back up at me. “But you’re already fucking ‘er, ain’t ya, special agent in charge?” He sneers my credentials.
Fuck.
A rustling behind me tells me that Sanders has walked up behind me and sets his hands on the table. “Are you the one who broke into her house?” His tone is conversational, as if the thought just occurred to him. What he’s actually doing is trying to save this interview before I fuck it up.
“Fuck no! When they told me she lived on a horse ranch, I told ‘em to go fuck themselves. Those cowboys keep guns on their damn nightstand.”
“Then who?” I ask, keeping my voice calm.
He looks at me with a shit-eating grin and leans forward on the table. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“What was in the syringe? Was the plan to kill her?” Sanders asks, his indifference act gone since he had to step in and take over for me before I kill the man-boy in front of me.
The little fucker looks at me again, the smile still on his face. “Nah, man, a few of the guys wanna play with ‘er first. That was just to knock ‘er out.” He follows it up with a wink.
I’m clenching my jaw so hard that my molars might crack as I look at the little fuck across from me. When a muscle in my jaw twitches, he smiles.
“What’s the matter? I’m sure they won’t mind letting you in on the fuck train while she’s knocked out.” He leans closer to the table. “That little pussy’s gonna be wrecked.”
My control slips, and I lunge across the table. The little fucker is fast, and he tries to stand up but ends up falling over backward in his chair. As he scrambles away laughing, Sanders gets me in a chokehold as I try to walk around the table.
Detectives watching through the two-way rush into the room and grab the asshole from the floor.
With his fist over my chest, firmly gripping my shirt, Sanders addresses the detectives. “We need a break.”
The one closest to us sarcastically lifts his eyebrows. “You think?”
I walk into a different room with Sanders on my heels, and he slams the door behind him and yells. “What the fuck was that?”
Linking my fingers behind my head, I walk in a circle, willing the anger to leave my system.
I shouldn’t care so much, but just the ‘what if’ is making me fucking lose my mind.
It would fucking kill me if something happened to her.
I shouldn’t care about her any more than I would any other civilian. But I do.
I never lose my composure. She’s gotten under my skin.
Kicking one of the chairs that’s pushed under a table, it skids across the floor and hits the wall. It takes a minute, but I get control of my anger and turn to Sanders, hanging my hands on my hips.
We stare at each other for a moment before he speaks. “You’re compromised, and you’re going to fuck up this investigation.”
“I’m not compromised.”
He jerks his head, and his eyebrows fly up to his hairline. “Then what the fuck, Abbot?”
I am compromised, but I’ve got to fix this before it goes any further, he could have me removed from the case. He knows it, and I know it. Just entertaining the thought that she could be removed from my protection and given to someone else makes my stomach sick.
Not only would she feel betrayed and probably never speak to me again, but I don’t think anyone can protect her like I can.
Taking a deep breath, I say, “He just rubbed me the wrong way.”
His eyes narrow, and he mirrors me by putting his hands on his hips, his stupid henley stretching across his chest. “Are you fucking her?”
“Sanders.” My voice is low as I tip my head at him, it’s a warning. He may have the upper hand in this, but I’m still his supervisor.
He takes a step towards me. “This is a reportable offense, and there were multiple witnesses. I need to know if you’re going to fuck up this case. Are. You. Sleeping. With. Her?”
“No, I’m not sleeping with her! No lines have been crossed.” That’s all I’m going to fucking give him. I’ve been avoiding her for two days because when we were in that room together and I kissed her head, I did it blindly, like it was a natural fucking thing that I do every day.
I’m so fucking compromised that I could ruin nearly two years of late nights, long fucking weekends, and a year of one step forward and two steps back.
Everything around her is natural, when she busts my balls with that fucking sass of hers, when I watch her walk across the kitchen in the mornings in her skimpy little pajamas while blowing on her giant mug of coffee, which I know is just another way to bust my balls, that are turning blue, by the way.
Or when I go into the bathroom and her ‘stuff’ is everywhere.
It feels like she’s supposed to be there.
“So, it’s just an attraction?” He asks, breaking through my thoughts.
“It’s a small one, nothing I can’t control. But you heard what he said, Sanders, they were planning on drugging her and using her before they killed her. Doesn’t that piss you off? For any woman?”
He lifts a hand and points a finger at me. “You know as well as I do that’s a fucking skeezball tactic to throw you off, and it fucking worked. He knows it, I know it, and you know it. You fucked up.”
He’s right, I fucked up, and I know it. I’ve never let an interview rankle me, this is the first time I’ve ever lost my cool.
We stand silently in the room, staring at each other. He’s still sizing me up, and I can only pray that he doesn’t report this.
“If anyone finds out about this, any testimony you or she makes regarding this guy will be thrown out.”
“You think I don’t fucking know that, Sanders?”
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but maybe she should be transferred to another security detail.”
My heart rate spikes. “She won’t do it. If anyone tries to transfer her, she will go home, which will ensure they kill her. I’ve had to jump through hoops just to get her to stay with me.”
“That can be taken two different ways, man. Either you want her with you that bad, or she prefers to stay with you. Either way, it looks bad.”
Hanging my head, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “She’s just fucking stubborn and won’t listen to reason.”
“We’re this close, Abbot.” He holds his thumb and index finger up with an inch of space between them. “We finally got the guy who can get us in. This one little girl can fuck it all up.”
“I’m aware of how close we are, and she’s not going to fuck it up. I’ll make sure of it.”
I can tell he wants to say more, but I have seniority over him, and he sighs instead. “Can we go back in there and scare that smart-ass motherfucker into wearing a wire now?”
I fan my hand toward the door in an ‘after you’ gesture.