“She all right?” he interrupted.
Her smile tightened and he could see he’d given himself away.
“She’s fine, Mr. Parker. She mentioned you were out here. I thought you might want to come inside. I see you have some security clearance so it’s not a problem,” she added.
“That’s real nice of you.” He kept his expression blank. A good old American boy believing in altruism. He placed the laptop in its case and opened the door as she stood back. He was in jeans, a black sweater and combat boots. He could hear marines being drilled in the distance. The sound reminded him of his days in uniform. The good old days.
He closed the door, locked the car with the fob.
“Nice car.” The fed admired with a low whistle. “Public service doesn’t pay quite so well.”
“But we appreciate you all the same.” He gave her a smile.
“As I appreciate your service as a veteran.” They started walking back to the main building. Doing the dance. Each knowing what to say. What not to say. “You served in Afghanistan?”
“And Iraq.”
“You were awarded a Distinguished Service Cross. That’s pretty impressive stuff.”
“You seem to know a lot about me, Agent Barton.”
A quick smile flashed over her features. “It’s my job, Mr. Parker. Don’t take it personally.”
“My ego isn’t that inflated, ma’am.”
He followed her through the building, up in the elevator. When they got off he looked for Mallory but didn’t see her. Barton brought him into a large space filled with cubicles and desks. There was an empty desk by a window beside a photocopier. “It’s not much but it beats sitting in a car all day.”
“Thanks.”
She hesitated, clearly nowhere near done with him yet and looking for an angle to wheedle out more information. “I lost a brother in Operation Desert Storm.”
He couldn’t tell from her eyes whether or not she was telling the truth. Maybe he was losing his touch. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I have another brother who joined up after Phil died.” She swallowed and looked uncomfortably close to tears. “The whole time he was over there I was terrified he was going to get himself killed because of some misplaced survivor’s guilt.”
His mouth went dry. “Survivor’s guilt is a strong motivator.”
“Did you ever suffer from it? When the men in your unit died?”
“That was sloppy, Agent Barton. I’d expect a better segue from an agent of your caliber.” He straightened to his full height so he was staring down at her. Not that she appeared intimidated. “If you want to interrogate me why don’t we do it the old-fashioned way,” he suggested.
“Rubber hoses?” she grinned.
“I was thinking a room with a tape recorder.”
“Oh, you’re no fun.” She laughed and crooked her finger. “Follow me. I’m going to take you up on your offer, because when Agent Rooney finds out I’m questioning her boyfriend, she’ll probably find a way to get me fired—”
The term “boyfriend” gave him a juvenile thrill even though it was ridiculous. He didn’t allow it to distract him. “You don’t like Mallory?”
“I like her just fine. But I don’t like people getting where they are because of the people they know.”
“You think that’s what she’s done?”
Special Agent Barton eyed him over her shoulder. She was shrewd, but he wasn’t sure how shrewd. For all he knew, Special Agent Barton could be The Gateway Project’s inside person seeing if he’d turn on them under pressure. He already knew the answer to that. If they betrayed him he’d have no compunction about taking them down. If they kept their promises their secrets would go to his grave.
He followed her. This was a good opportunity to see how this woman ticked. The main thing right now was keeping Mallory safe from anyone who wanted to do her harm. And that included her coworkers at the BAU.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Mallory went into Frazer’s office feeling as relaxed as a rattlesnake being poked with a sharp stick. There was a couch in the corner where her superior obviously slept sometimes, judging from the pillow and blanket folded neatly beneath. Plants and books dominated the shelves. The space was crammed tight but it wasn’t cluttered with knickknacks. His desk was clear except for a single glossy white file folder with the FBI crest embossed on the front.
“Where do you want me?” she sounded like she felt. Bitchy. Defensive.
He turned from where he was closing the blinds. “I can hypnotize you without you being relaxed, but considering we have to work together it might go better if you try to trust me.”
She raised a brow.
He held up his hands, palm out. “Fine, I’m not cute and cuddly like SSA Hanrahan but I’m a good agent. We’re on the same team and I’ve done this a million times with a lot of success.”
Mallory released a pent up sigh. “We may as well get it over with.”
“That’s the spirit.” His dry humor actually made her smile. He put on some background music. Birdsong, and the sound of the wind in the trees. A cold shiver stole over her.
“Lie down on the couch and close your eyes. I promise I won’t make you quack like a duck and post it on Youtube.”
“Been there, done that, after I graduated Harvard.” She toed off her shoes and lay with her head on a green velvet cushion and stared at the ceiling.
“I want to take you back to a happy memory.”
She thought about Alex and smiled.
“Yeah, not that sort of memory.”
“Ha.” She closed her eyes. “When this is over I get to quiz you about your private life, Supervisory Special Agent Frazer.”
“Nothing to know. My work is my life. Got an ex-wife to prove it.”
Not a lot she could say to that. Divorce was common in law enforcement. Another reason to enjoy what she and Alex had found—while it lasted. Barton had offered to go get him from the parking lot and set him up in her office. Mallory knew she was going to pump him for information but there was no way she was sleeping with a monster. “He has a Distinguished Service Cross.”
“What?”
“My...” Boyfriend? Lover? “Alex has a medal for heroism. He went to war. So unless there is more than one kidnapper, assuming Payton was kept alive all these years and wasn’t a willing participant, there’s no way he’s the guy we’re looking for because he couldn’t have left Payton alone for that amount of time when he was serving our country.” The words came out in a rush and a wave of relief hit her. Not that she’d thought it was Alex but she liked proof.
“I hope you’re right.”
She opened her eyes and looked at him. He’d pulled a chair over, just a few feet from where she lay down on his couch. He held up a voice recorder. “May I?”
“Sure.” Her lips tightened. She felt stupid.
“Okay. I promise this isn’t going to hurt. During this session you are my priority and I will make sure nothing can harm you. Take a deep breath. And let it out slowly.” They repeated some breathing exercises together. She felt like a fool but he did them too and slowly the tension leached out of her muscles. A heaviness in her limbs crept over her. She hadn’t had much sleep for a few days.
“You’re in a happy place, a safe place where no one can hurt you.” Frazer’s voice deepened as he started asking her questions. It sounded like he was a long way away. “Did you have a pet when you were growing up?”
That brought back a happy memory. She wanted to smile but her lips wouldn’t cooperate. Too tired. “We had a spaniel called Taffy. She was always getting into trouble with Mama for sleeping in our beds. Mama started locking her in the mudroom at night.”
“That’s a shame. Taffy might have made enough noise to gain someone’s attention if she’d been there.”
A giant wave of sadness crashed over her but before it dragged her too deep Frazer said, “Do you remember the color of your bedroom walls when you were a child
?”
“Blue, pale blue. The window trims were painted white and we had yellow drapes. Yellow was Payton’s favorite color.” The image of those drapes was blinding. Bright and cheerful like sunshine.
“You shared a bedroom with your sister?”
“Yes. We didn’t like to sleep apart.” Her sister’s laughter teased the edge of her mind. She wanted to reach out and grab her, but there was something lurking in the darkness and she was scared. “I sleepwalk.” She clapped her hand over her mouth like she’d told him a big secret.
She heard a rustling sound as Frazer shifted in his seat. “I used to sleepwalk too. Ended up on the main road once. Almost scared my mother half to death,” Frazer told her. “Did you sleepwalk the night Payton went missing?”
“No.” She shook her head. An image flickered through her mind. Gone so fast she couldn’t grab a hold of it or figure out what it meant.
“The night she went missing. Did you see anyone come into your bedroom, Mallory?” His words sounded like he was standing far, far away and she could barely hear him over the sound of leaves rustling in the trees.
She nodded and felt his excitement.
“Was it a man or a woman?”
“A man.”
“Do you know who it was?”
“No.” She shook her head.
“Can you describe him?”
She searched lazily around her mind for some clue but it was all cloudy and vague. “Feet.”
“What do you mean ‘feet’? You saw his feet?”
“Yes.”
“Can you describe his feet?”
“Green converse trainers. He has big feet.”
His voice changed. She registered it on some other plane. “Are you under the bed, Mallory?”
She nodded. “I sleep under the bed a lot.” She hadn’t remembered that until now. That’s why he hadn’t taken her.
“Why do you sleep under the bed?”
Her pulse jumped. Even in this relaxed state she felt her blood pound. “Because I’m scared of monsters.”
There was a long silence. “Did the man speak? Was he looking for you too?”
She frowned again. “I don’t know. I woke up when he was standing by Pay’s bed. I closed my eyes because I was scared. When I opened them again he was gone.” Tears scalded her eyes. “I didn’t know he’d taken her with him. I didn’t know he’d stolen her. I just went back to sleep.” Agitation swirled inside, pushing against the lethargy.
“It wasn’t your fault, Mallory. You’re doing really well remembering so much.” His voice soothed and calmed. “Where were you when your parents discovered Payton was missing?”
“I was the one who told them she was gone when I woke up in the morning. They were in bed.”
“Together?”
“Yes. They always slept together.”
“Did anyone ever show special interest in Payton?”
“Everyone loved Payton. She was nice to everyone, even people who weren’t nice to her.”
“Who wasn’t nice to her?”
She bit her lip. “I wasn’t always nice to her. Once I sat on her back and pulled her pigtails. She didn’t tell Mama or Daddy because she didn’t want to get me into trouble.”
“It’s normal for siblings to fight. It wasn’t your fault she was taken, Mallory.”
Her eyes watered but she didn’t have the energy to wipe them.
“Was there anyone else who used to follow her around? Or maybe watch her?”
“Maybe...” She flashed to an image of a man and a boy standing at the edge of the woods beside their property, but it was gone. She tried to pull the image back, saw only vague shapes in the distance. “I don’t remember.” The weight of not knowing felt like it was crushing her chest and her breath got hoarse. She struggled to pull in a lungful of air.
“One last question.” His voice pulled her away from her struggle to breathe. “You’re not going to remember this question when I wake you up.” She stilled even as the pressure in her lungs built. “Why are you working here at the BAU?”
Warning sounds pierced her brain, which shook itself awake like a wet dog climbing out of a lake. Finally she drew in a long clean breath, opened her eyes and stared right into his. “I’m looking for justice. Why are you here?”
***
Alex sat opposite Special Agent Felicia Barton in a conference room with a massive window, affording a magnificent view of the surrounding Virginia countryside. He liked Virginia. The history. The quiet leafy greenness of the state. Loved the changing seasons. Even late fall held its own subdued, fading beauty.
“I don’t know why you’re interviewing me,” he said carefully.
“I just have a few questions to ask you.”
She pulled a recording device from her pocket, and took down a couple of details like his name and date of birth.
“I’m curious about how you got your Distinguished Service Cross, Mr. Parker?”
That day had been a turning point in his life he didn’t talk about. Five of his best friends had died in combat, two more damaged beyond repair, and he hadn’t suffered a scratch.
He tapped his fingers on the desk. Survivor’s guilt. He knew all about it. “Did you request the file from the military?”
“I’ve sent in a request but it’ll take time. You’re here now, this would save me some trouble.”
He ran a hand through his short hair. “Most of it is still classified.”
“Why?”
Because the CIA fucked up. When he’d challenged them they’d thrown it back at him and offered him a job to see if he could do any better. And he had done better, right up until that arms dealer. “National Security.”
Her focus honed in on him. “I think you can assume I have appropriate security clearance.”
“In which case they’ll send you the file.” He narrowed his gaze. “As the person at risk of prosecution for revealing my country’s secrets should you be lying, Agent Barton, I will respectfully decline your request for information about that mission.” Because he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about it.
The muscles around her mouth flexed visibly beneath the skin. “When did you get back in country?”
“I left the army in ‘05. Two friends and I set up a security company—”
“What type of security?”
“Everything. Personal protection with bodyguards, alarm and monitoring systems; advice about protecting major facilities in terms of infrastructure; and cyber security.”
“That’s your gig, right?”
He nodded. Tapped his fingers some more. “The guys who work for me are the real brains of the operation. I just get to look good.”
“And drive the fancy car.”
“One of my employees drives a Maserati. Need a job, Agent Barton? Or just a new car. I’m pretty sure I can set you up.”
A flicker of fire lit her eyes. “Remember what I said about people getting jobs because of the people they know?”
He smiled.
“So, not so much, but thanks.” Her expression was icy now.
“Let me know if you change your mind.”
The look on her face said when Hell froze over. She took a moment to calm herself as if she’d just realized he’d hijacked her interview. “So, you won’t tell me how you became a decorated soldier, and you’re a little vague about the exact nature of your work—”
“Not true.” He leaned forward. “I can tell you in excruciating detail but you’re not going to understand it.”
Her nostrils flared. She didn’t like being told she wasn’t smart enough. The woman had a lot of buttons he could push.
“Can you tell me how you met Special Agent Rooney?”
“Sure. I was asked to address a Counterintelligence Awareness Group briefing at the FBI Charlotte’s division by an old army buddy of mine. Special Agent Lucas Randall.” He peered at her notes. “Two ‘l’s in Randall.”
She audibly ground her teeth.
; “Randall introduced me to Mallory who worked with him there and whom he’d known since she was a kid.”
“Did you know Randall or Rooney when you were a child?”
“No.” He frowned. This line of questioning was starting to make sense. It wasn’t about his vigilante activities but it could still trip him up if he wasn’t careful. He was foolish not to have expected it. “I grew up in the mid-west. Met Randall when we deployed to Afghanistan. I just told you when and how I met Mallory.”
“You’re thirty-four, Mr. Parker?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So you’d have been, what, sixteen, in nineteen ninety-five?”
“Ninety-five? Christ, I can barely remember where I was in ninety-five. High school, I guess. Where are you going with this?”
Black eyes latched onto his. “Ever been to West Virginia, Mr. Parker?”
“Can’t say I have.” He knew exactly where she was going with this but he had no intention of making this easy for her.
“You got any family?”
His mouth went dry. He didn’t care about his own reputation but he sure as hell wasn’t having anyone sully theirs. “My mom died when I was fourteen. My grandfather died a year later. After that I was a subject of the state until I went off to college.” He leaned forward, held her gaze. “Neither my mother nor grandfather were ever in West Virginia, and neither of them abducted Payton Rooney.”
Her expression became relaxed and exasperated all at the same time. “You have to understand that now it’s obvious Mallory has been targeted by someone ‘involved’”—she rolled the word around her mouth— “in Payton Rooney’s abduction, we need to check out all her close relationships. Especially those that began recently.”
“I don’t have to understand anything if you plan to implicate my family. Maybe I should call my attorney?”
Her eyes widened, maybe realizing he wasn’t quite the pushover she’d anticipated. “Fine, let’s clear this all up right now. Where were you Sunday, November 9th?”
01 A Cold Dark Place Page 17
