Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
BECKETT
I sat in the interview room at the Riverbend Maximum Security Institution and waited for the guards to bring Mason Dunkin to me.
I had called in a favor to get Mason placed in a prison close to my FBI field office.
After the shit he pulled seven years ago, I didn't want there to be any screwups that would put him on the run again.
Mason was a crucial witness to a high-profile case, and I was pissed when he escaped the marshals office.
Mason didn't look the least bit happy when a guard shuffled him in a few moments later.
The scowl on his face was directed at me, and there was no mistaking Mason blamed me for his current circumstances.
I looked Mason over and was surprised by what I saw.
The man looked pretty damn good for someone who had been on the run for so long.
The boyish features Mason once possessed were gone, and a hardened man took his place.
If I had to guess, Mason spent a lot of his time over the years working out.
"Long time no see, Mason. Did you miss me?" I flashed him a smile while the guard shackled him to the table.
"Not even a little," Mason grumbled but didn't break eye contact. Seven years on the run had been good for him. He'd matured some. His family would be proud. Mason finally looked like the rest of the men in his family.
"How's solitary confinement treating you? I hear it can be pretty damn lonely."
"Is there a point to this visit, or are you here to annoy the fuck out of me?"
Oh yeah. Mason had grown some balls while he was away.
"I figured we could catch up. Maybe talk about those options I gave you the last time we spoke."
"I told you before that I didn't want to testify."
I sighed. "Yes, but then you agreed. Even got yourself a nice deal from the DA's office. You were all set up with the marshals and then poof." I threw my hands in the air. "You disappeared. Aren't men in your line of work supposed to honor their word?"
Mason scoffed, "You know damn well my family doesn't keep their word. It's why they're constantly at war. They fuck over every person they come in contact with."
That was true. No one liked the Dunkin family.
They were a poor excuse for a mob family.
Small potatoes but they caused enough problems to put themselves on the FBI's radar.
Mason's father was a sadistic son of a bitch, and Mason's older brother was even worse.
It was rumored Mason's father killed both of his wives.
It was no wonder Mason wanted nothing to do with them.
"And here I thought you were different than the rest of them."
Mason looked like he wanted to strangle me with his bare hands. His fingers kept flexing where they sat on the metal table. "I am different from them."
I leaned forward and placed my forearms on the cold table. "Then tell me why you ran, because from where I'm sitting, it looks like the apple didn't fall far from the tree."
It was obvious I was getting under his skin, and the thought gave me a sick sort of pleasure.
I wasn't normally the kind of agent who got off on playing dirty.
I believed in law and order. I did my job the correct way.
No shortcuts. No glory. I wasn't in the Bureau to make a name for myself, but what Mason did pissed me off.
Taking down the Dunkin family wasn't going to help my career.
They weren't a big fish, but they were certainly a pain in the ass. I would take pleasure knowing another mob family was eliminated even though another one would eventually take their place. That was the vicious cycle in my line of work. I hadn’t been able to stop it altogether, but I could certainly get rid of a few.
"That's none of your damn business. My thoughts haven't changed. I'm not going to testify."
Mason was hiding something. I was sure of it. Call it a gut feeling because there was nothing about his facial expressions or body language that backed up my thought process.
"You're hiding something." I narrowed my eyes at him. "And I'm going to find out what it is."
"Good luck with that." Mason turned his head toward the door and hollered, "Guard!" Within seconds, the same guard who brought Mason to me entered the room. "I'd like to go back to my cell now."
The guard didn't give me the opportunity to deny Mason's request before he unhooked Mason from the table and escorted him out of the interview room.
I sat back in the metal chair and sighed.
I almost missed the scared man I met all those years ago.
Mason had hardened during his time away, and I would need to study him better if I had any chance of convincing him to testify for me.
Despite Mason's family being a bunch of scumbags, they were smart and knew how to skirt the law.
It pissed me off to no end that they continued to stay out of prison.
Since there was nothing more I could do at the federal prison, I made my way out of the building, driving back to the Nashville field office.
I was lucky enough to stay in the same office my entire career.
Most agents had a dream office they wanted to be transferred to once they were eligible, but not me.
I liked Nashville and would be happy to stay until I retired.
"How did your meeting go?" my partner, Special Agent Sylvia Mattias, asked. She was assigned to me three years ago, and I caught her up on the situation when I was advised Mason was picked up on a warrant.
"Mason wasn't in the mood to talk. He grew a set of balls since he went on the run."
"You know, I'll never understand why men think balls are tough.
One kick at them and a man goes down like a baby.
Now a vagina, on the other hand, that's some tough shit.
Popping out a baby isn't for the faint of heart.
Not that I would know that from personal experience, but from what I hear, it's no walk in the park. "
I looked at my partner like she had grown a second head in the last minute. "What?" She shrugged her shoulder. "Does your mouth have a filter? Or do you say whatever pops into your head?"
During the three years I've been teamed up with Sylvia, I’d learned one thing. The woman didn't give a shit about social norms.
"Whatever pops in my head. It has a way of weeding out the sensitive souls. Take you for example, we've been together for awhile now, and you haven't once asked for a new partner. It tells me you aren't easily intimidated."
I didn't know if that was a compliment, or something I should be concerned about. I decided to take it as a good thing. "You aren't that bad. And besides, it would be annoying to break in someone new."
Sylvia was only my second partner since I joined the Bureau. The first one was my mentor, and I wasn't sure I would ever find someone I clicked with more than him. Although Sylvia was turning out to be a close second.
"Aw." Sylvia clutched her chest above her heart. "And here I thought you didn't love me."
I shook my head. Sylvia was a unique personality; that was for sure. She also talked enough for both of us that I barely ever had to say a word before she was jumping into the next topic. "So what's your plan? I assume you have one or at least on your way to one."
If only. "Not yet but I'm sure I'll think of something. Mason refuses to testify against his family, but eventually word will get out that he's locked up. It won't take long for his family to put a hit out on him. It should be enough reason for him to change his mind."
"I'll never understand how a family could turn on their own like that. I know not everyone has a tight-knit group like me but pure hatred? Yup, I can't understand it."
Sylvia came from what she liked to call hippies.
Her family lived off the land as much as possible, and she was the first one of her siblings to branch away from that.
From what she told me, her family didn't agree with her choices, but they never made her feel bad about it or turned their back on her.
"Yeah, I'm not close with my family, but I could never see my brother or father wanting to kill me."
Disown me? Sure. But kill me? I didn't think so.
"Ooooo. Is the ever-silent Special Agent Walsh finally going to open up to me after three years?" Sylvia rested her chin on her knuckles and wiggled her eyebrows at me.
I merely scowled in return. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe training a new partner doesn't sound so bad after all."
Sylvia threw her head back and laughed. "This is why I love working with you. It's so easy to rile you up. Go home, Beckett. It's clear it's past your bedtime, and old age is making you cranky."
Old age my ass. I was forty-one. Instead of arguing, though, I got up from my desk and waved her off before heading out.
Sylvia was right about one thing. It was getting late, and I had missed dinner.
It was probably the reason for my cranky attitude.
I would swing by on my way home and grab fast food, knowing damn well there was nothing at my place.
I hated grocery shopping, so I rarely did it.
Once I had some food in my stomach, I would be able to think clearer and formulate a game plan.
There was no way I was getting much sleep tonight. I was back on the hunt, and nothing would keep me from figuring out what Mason was hiding.