Freya doesn’t say anything.
“I have a feeling you’re more in the know right now than I am which, if you knew me, you’d know is not a common occurrence,”I press.
It’s not till the elevator doors close and we’re on our way up that she responds. “Don’t I get a lawyer?”
I cock my head, analyzing the tone of her voice. “Do you need one?”
The cuffs clink behind Freya’s back as she shifts to face me. “Even just questioning that is a form of refusing me my basic right to a defense.”
Eli snorts. I shoot him a look. He’s leaning against the elevator wall, his legs crossed, and his Stetson pulled down over his face. Anyone would think he was bored but this nonchalance attitude is Eli’s way of coping. I move one of the stones in my left pocket to my right, a small reminder to tell River Eli’s struggling. I have a lot of information in my brain but at times it feels like a sieve. The stones were River’s idea. Later, when I find one in my right pocket it will help me remember whatever it is I need to do.
The elevator pings and Eli strides past us into the office, tipping his hat to Freya as he goes. “Don’t worry, Kitten, you’ll get your lawyer.”
I forget to warn her when I take her arm this time and she jolts. I don’t comment on it, but I loosen my grip till I feel her relax. It shouldn’t bother me. If River is right, which he is 87% of the time, this woman is a criminal. But I’m exhibiting clear signs of attraction and a part of me really hopes River is wrong.
I take Freya to one of the interrogation rooms and adjust her cuffs, so she’s chained to the metal table in front of the chair. I want to get her to talk but it’s clear from her face she’s not ready to.
“I’ll have someone bring you some water,” I say before heading to the door.
“Jude,” she calls after me.
I stop and turn back around. I should tell her it’s Agent Elroy, but I’ve always hated the formalities of the FBI and I find I like the sound of my name on her tongue. “Yes?”
“If you’re as smart as they say you are, why haven’t you caught him yet? Why haven’t you caught the Cross-Cut Killer?”
My jaw tenses. I wasn’t expecting that, and her words hit me right in the solar plexus. From the vulnerability on her face, I don’t think she meant it as an insult, but Arthur Maxwell is a sore spot for my team and the question she just asked is the one I ask myself every single day.
I swallow past the rock in my throat and leave the room, locking the door behind me.
CHAPTER NINE
Freya
MY HEART IS beating too fast. I’ve been in countless rooms like this. One way mirror. Metal table. Chairs nailed to the floor. It’s cold. Isolating. I worked so hard to become a detective, studying for months to catch up on schoolwork after my unconventional childhood. I’m not supposed to be the one in cuffs.
I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe in through rounded lips. I need to pull myself together and make a decision. I press my forehead to the table. The icy metal shivers through me as I work the hair grip out from where it’s hidden under my curls. I sit back up and turn the thin bit of metal over in my fingers.
I could stay and hope they don’t figure out who I am. Luke would find me a good lawyer and I could try and worm my way out of this mess, but the arrest was too specific. Even if they don’t find my real identity, they know I’m not Freya Danvers. I lied to the police. I’ll lose my job, probably face jail time.
I want to work with Jude and his team. I could help them, but I can’t explain how without telling them who I am and that would involve confessing to falsifying my identity.
I close my eyes. I can talk myself round in circles, but it will only be so long before they’re back and I really don’t have a choice.
I sigh and get to work picking the lock on the cuffs.
I can’t go to prison. I have a promise to keep.
CHAPTER TEN
Oz
I ADJUST MY glasses and lean in towards the computer. To be honest, I feel more at home in front of a screen than I do in the real world, but I’ve been trailing through the internet, adjusting the algorithm, and narrowing the search parameters for hours now. I’m running off energy drinks and the high of the chase as reality fades into the background. A thump vibrates my desk, dragging me back to my office.
“Feet off.” I push Eli’s cowboy boots till his chair spins and his feet hit the floor. He’s left a mark on the glass, but I don’t have time to clean it right now. Information skims across my screens and I scan it rapidly, tapping at the keys to make sure nothing slips by.
Eli knows better than to mess with my workspace but, to be fair, I’m more irritable than usual right now. The search for Freya’s true identity is frustrating me to no end. This woman doesn’t exist. I’m trying to connect her to who she was before she took on a dead woman’s identity, but I keep coming up with a whole load of nothing. Normally, I would relish in a challenge like this, but River’s impatience is bleeding through my office. I want to meet whoever hid Freya so well. She won’t have done it herself; I don’t get tech vibes off her. The person who did this is next level and I wonder what it would be like to go up againstthem in a hackathon. They’re good, sure, but I’ll find out who Freya really is, it’s just a matter of time.
The door opens and Jude walks in, his face drawn in a scowl. “Do we know who she is yet?”
