Athena eyed her agent. The ex-Marine stood over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and the quiet confidence of a man who’d seen plenty of combat, while she was an average-sized, older, feminine woman who didn’t appear as dangerous as she was. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. I’m just going to freshen up and will meet you in ten. Let him sweat a little longer.”
A corner of Ice’s mouth drew up. “Will do.” With a wink, he headed back down the hall to stand vigil.
After a comfort stop, Athena washed her hands, let down and brushed her hair, touched up her powder and lipstick, and dabbed a drop of perfume on the pulse point of her neck. Inspecting herself in the mirror, she unfastened a button on her blouse and nodded. She had long ago learned to use the assets God had given her to her best advantage.
Agent Ice opened the interview room door and held it for her while the woman in charge sashayed in. He pulled out her chair—like a good Southern gentleman should—beforetaking his seat.
The scowling White man, his hands cuffed to a bar in the center of the steel table and his brown hair sticking up in disarray on his head, uttered one growling word. “Lawyer.”
When Athena merely studied him silently, Agent Ice asked, “Do you have one, or shall I call a public defender?”
“Why should I spend my money when it’s the state’s responsibility to provide me with one?” He raised his stubbled chin defiantly and clenched his jaw.
“All right, Mr. Baylock. I’ll give the public defenders’ office a call, although it might be tomorrow morning before we can get anyone over here. It’s seven p.m. already, but I’ll see if someone answers.”
“Yeah, you do that,” Baylock snapped angrily. When Athena continued to regard him without a word, he sneered at her. “What are you starin’ at?”
“Just curious,” she answered with a shrug. “Your partner is across the hall, spilling his guts to Special Agent McCulloch, saying how he was never in any trouble until you showed up and dragged him into your criminal activity.”
“Bull shit!” he snarled, brows narrowed and tucked low. “He’s the one with Houston contacts, not me. Besides, you’re lyin’. Aleck isn’t one to rat out his buddy.”
“That was probably true until the murder charge got tacked on,” Athena speculated conversationally.
“What murder charge?” roared Baylock. “We didn’t kill that dude—we didn’t even hurt him that bad.”
“Oh, not Mr. Zhang,” she corrected, holding out her nails for assessment without a glance at Baylock. “Zach Carpenter, hedge fund manager, midtown, two months ago.”
“Now I know you’re lyin’.” The frazzled perpetrator sat back in his chair. “We never killed anybody.”
“That poor old man lay on the floor of his office for twelve hours before anyone found him the next day,” Athena commented, “and, by the time he got to the hospital, he was too far gone for the ER to save him. Your friend blames you for everything.”
“I just talked to a night clerk at the public defenders’ office,” Ice said, returning to the table. “She said they can have you a dedicated public defender over here around ten in the morning. I’ll just take Mr. Baylock to holding for overnight.”
Baylock’s eyes flashed at Ice, then Athena. “What about Aleck? I need to speak with him. Did his lawyer show up?”
“I’m afraid you aren’t allowed to confer with your accomplice, Mr. Baylock—only your legal counsel, who’ll be here in the morning,” Agent Ice informed him.
“But what is he saying in there? He’s tellin’ lies about me, isn’t he?” Panic erupted on the man’s face as Ice moved to unlock his restraints. “Wait, wait! I’m the reasonable one. He’s the one who likes hurting people. I swear, that guy was alive and well when we left his office. All we did was shake him down to unlock his crypto account. He must have had a heart attack or something.”
“Mr. Baylock, don’t you know?” Athena stared at him with a curious expression, her lips parted and chin cocked. “If anyone dies during the commission of, or as a result of, a felony, the law holds every felonious party responsible. In other words, whether you intended to kill him is irrelevant; it’s first-degree murder.”
“That’s twenty years or more!” Fear shone in his eyes as he rattled his cuffs against the bar.
Ice added, “Then there’s the kidnapping and grand larceny, so I’d say more like life.”
“But if I talk, tell you who we’re workin’ for, who recruited us with promises of riches, then I get a deal?”
“That’s the gist of it,” Athena concurred. “But I don’t think we’ll need your testimony. Mr. Smith has already told Agent McCulloch enough to make charges stick against your boss.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t know everything.” Baylock’s expression lit up while sweat rolled down his temples. “I can get you the broker who converts the bitcoin to real money for Silverton. Aleck doesn’t know. He can’t give you that. Now, write something down and make sure someone with authority signs it. I’m not giving you my ace without a formal guarantee.”
“What do you think, Special Agent Bouvier?” Ice asked, leaning back slightly in his seat, eyeing her keenly.
“I don’t know,” she answered dismissively. “I’m afraid he’ll change his mind by the time we get someone from the state’s attorney’s office in here. He’s already changed it three times. What can you expect from an ex-con drifter from tumbleweed land?” Without a glance at Baylock, she pushed up from the table.
“Look, lady,” he urged in a pleading tone. “You can believe I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in prison. I revoke my right to counsel. I want the deal, and I’ll tell you everything I know. Just put it in writing.”
Agent Ice nodded. “I’ll go get some forms and pens, but someone from the DA’s office has to approve it before it’s final. You will do time for this, Mr. Baylock, just maybe not life.”
