Chapter 14 #2
Mateo wanted desperately to ask Darcy what she knew, how much information she’d been able to dig up on Melody. But it was too soon. Waiting until she had a full profile to present to him would be the smart thing to do. Besides, he had just figured out how to get Suede to talk.
A few hours later, Suede had agreed to cooperate fully with the investigation, giving up locations of brothels and warehouses in other states, as well as details on how shipments were orchestrated, and how the victims were recruited.
His lawyer had negotiated the terms, pressing at first for complete immunity and witness protection.
Mateo had laughed in the lawyer’s face, reminding him of the severity of the charges.
In exchange for his cooperation, Tariq Hayes would get no more than a plea deal and a reduced sentence.
If he was lucky, he’d only do ten to twenty.
By then, Williams, Smith, and Jones had arrived, fed, freshly showered, and professionally dressed.
He would leave Suede’s debriefing to Williams, who would ensure every bit of information was properly documented.
Jones and Smith had tasks of their own to carry out, and Darcy had declared her intention to go home for lunch and a nap before resuming her online sleuthing.
Right before leaving the interrogation room, Mateo had stood over Suede, who was still chained to the table. His lawyer hovered in the corner, briefcase under one arm.
“You’re doing the right thing. Probably for the first time in your pathetic life.”
The pimp stared up at him, one gold canine flashing when he sneered. “Won’t matter in the end. You think Roman is just some rich mothafucka with too much power, but it’s more than that. The man is a freak. He’s into some pretty dark shit.”
Mateo raised an eyebrow. “Dark shit, huh? Like carving up women and draining them of their blood?”
It had occurred to Mateo that Roman could be the UNSUB.
He fit the profile well enough, being the right age and having the wealth and connections needed to move under the radar.
But, something had given him pause and he wasn’t yet ready to point the finger at Korenic.
He had looked into that computer screen, into Korenic’s eyes.
Something in him would have recognized Mari’s killer—he was certain of it.
Still, the man’s involvement was worth considering.
If nothing else, he provided the means by which the UNSUB obtained his victims.
Suede shook his head. “Look, I’ll tell you what I know about Roman because that was the deal, but that’s it. If you’re too stupid to see how high this thing goes, that ain’t my problem.”
Mateo leaned closer, forcing Suede to meet and maintain his stare. The pimp’s dark eyes had gone cold with dread.
“How high, Tariq?”
“Too high for my Black ass to ever reach, and that’s all I have to say about that. Otherwise, I end up in a bathtub with all my limbs severed.”
Mateo left the room then, knowing they had already milked Suede for all he was worth. Donovan was waiting for him when he emerged.
“Well, that was easier than I expected,” he drawled.
“Thank God for the Mad Hatter,” Mateo replied. “If Darcy hadn’t uncovered Korenic’s identity, Tariq might not have cracked.”
“So, what next?”
Mateo grimaced, looking at Donovan. Despite their sleepless night and long morning, the younger agent appeared to be wide awake.
There wasn’t a single line on his smooth, dark face and his silver eyes were wide open and clear.
Mateo was dead on his feet, starving, exhausted, and still sore from the beating he’d taken the other night.
He had only just regained the feeling in his fingers.
“I couldn’t tell you right now if I wanted to,” Mateo muttered. “I’m going back to the hotel for a few hours. Don’t call me unless it’s earth-shattering. I’ll report back later.”
“Yeah, man,” Donovan replied, pounding his shoulder. “You look like shit.”
“So nice of you to point that out.”
Mateo wasn’t sure how he managed to make it out to his car, and then to the hotel, but it seemed as if he’d blinked and then arrived at his door.
He ordered room service before stepping into the bathroom for a long, hot shower.
He washed away the aches and pains of a body that had been battered far too much in the past year.
He washed away the smells of desperation, fear, and human waste that always seemed to cling to a body after a brothel raid.
He watched it all run off him and pour down the drain, head lowered under the spray.
He'd just managed to dry off and pull on a pair of sweatpants when a knock on the door announced that his lunch had arrived. For at least an hour, his mind ceased its constant motion, the mental rummaging through the various pieces of information he’d gathered over the last few days.
He stopped trying to rationalize any of it with what he already knew and tended to his physical needs for the first time in over twenty-four hours.
He ate until he felt his stomach would explode, then drank an entire liter of water, having been unaware how dehydrated he was until the first trickle hit the back of his throat.
He collapsed onto the bed and slept like the dead.
But when he woke it was all waiting for him.
The sun had set, and he had missed two calls from Donovan and one from Darcy.
There were messages from Carlisle indicating that his warrant for further surveillance of Solstice had been approved—they could now install wiretaps into the club’s back rooms in hopes of catching wind of something useful.
After being unable to get a hold of him, Donovan and Darcy had sent texts.
Donovan wanted him to know that Suede had given his full statement and been put into protective custody.
Darcy wanted him to know that she’d uncovered a private jet itinerary that was scheduled to bring Roman Korenic back into town in a week.
None of it could be acted on right now. It was getting late, and Mateo had slept through what was left of the day.
Filling a tumbler of Scotch, he paced to the window and peered out into the night. He could easily fall back into bed and sleep another twelve hours. He’d wake up fresh and ready to tackle all the latest developments in the morning.
But as the Scotch forged a fiery path down his throat and into his chest, Mateo shrugged off the idea. Now that he’d determined there was nothing left to do for the day, his mind took him where it always did these days.
Melody.
Had she heard about the raid? Did she know that her VIP regulars had been taken into custody and started talking? Now that he’d made his first move, had her situation become more stable or more dangerous?
His fingers tightened around the tumbler, and he closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the windowpane.
She had been crystal clear with him the night before; he was to stay far away from her.
Without any real evidence, Mateo had no legal basis to keep following her around.
At least, not unless Darcy unearthed something that implicated her in this mess.
The longer he stood there arguing with himself, the more futile it became.
Every contention his logical mind made against the idea of going to Solstice was torn to shreds by one simple, irrefutable fact.
There was nothing logical about it. He had to see her.
He had to lay eyes on her and make sure she was still living, breathing, walking and talking.
He had to peer into her eyes one more time and try again to puzzle out the truth.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he downed what was left of his Scotch and left the glass on the windowsill.
He threw on the first clean clothes his hands fell on and took up the keys to his rental.
He left his work phone behind, taking only his personal cell.
No weapons, no surveillance tech, nothing but himself and Melody. He wasn’t leaving until he got answers.