Master (An Impossible Novel) (Impossible #6) (16 page)

My resolve hardened.  Even though I didn’t believe Parnell was The Mentor, I wasn’t going to let him get away again.  He would hurt more women, and he would know to be more careful now.  I wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I’m going in,” I declared.

Reed’s hand closed around my arm, stopping me short.  “Katie.  Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yes.  He’s a sick bastard, but that’ll work to my advantage.  He won’t talk to you guys, but he might slip up if he’s taunting me.”

I hate my job. 
The hard press of Reed’s lips let me know he had read my thoughts, and he didn’t approve of my decision.  I had revealed too much in his arms the night before.  I couldn’t do my job properly if Reed’s understanding dark eyes kept tempting me to break down and let him handle everything for me.  The prospect of allowing him to protect me was too tempting for me to contemplate.  I had to protect myself, or I would never make it out of this alive.  Or worse, I would find myself alive and in the hands of The Mentor.

I suppressed a shudder. 
Parnell isn’t The Mentor,
I reminded myself.  He couldn’t be.  It didn’t fit with his M.O.  And it was too easy to pin it on him.  If anything, The Mentor hoped we would arrest Parnell for his crimes.  He would make an ideal scapegoat.

“I need to do this, Reed.”  I pointedly extricated myself from his grip.

“I don’t like it,” Colton crossed his arms over his chest.  “Last time-”

“Last time, I let him get to me.  That won’t happen again.” 
Because I’ve faced worse since then, and Parnell isn’t The Mentor.

I took a deep breath and schooled my features to a professional blank before stepping into the interrogation room.  Parnell’s eyes found mine instantly, and a slow smile bared his teeth.  His gazed raked down my body in a leisurely progression from my face down my legs and back again, lingering on my sex and breasts.

He’s not The Mentor.  He’s not The Mentor.
  If I told myself enough times, I might just remember it.  The reassurance threatened to fly out of my head as Parnell’s dirty dishwater eyes settled on mine again.  My stomach churned as my primal mind recognized a predator.  I had been conditioned to fight, but my nature was inclined towards flight.

Calling on my training, I consciously chose fight.  I lifted my chin and sat in the metal chair across the table from Parnell.  It was far too narrow.  I could smell the tobacco on his breath, could see every dark hair in his five-o-clock shadow.  The fine lines around his eyes deepened with his leer, revealing the monster that hid behind the handsome mask.

“It’s been a while, Katherine,” his voice was low and sensual, almost melodic.

“It’s Agent Byrd,” I corrected him coldly.  “Where were you Wednesday between the hours of seven and eight PM?” 
During the time when I was assaulted.

His grin widened.  “I like a strong woman,
Agent Byrd.
  They’re so much more fun to break.”

“Where were you Wednesday between the hours of seven and eight PM?”  I repeated in a monotone.  I couldn’t allow him to divert me from my purpose.

“Determined,” he remarked.  “I like that, too.  The determined ones always fight harder.”

“So you enjoy raping women.”  I tried to catch him out.

His smile was condescending.  “Did I say that?  I don’t believe I did.”

“Wednesday,” I prompted. 
“Between seven and eight PM.  Where were you?”

“With Jolene.
  But you already knew that.”

“I don’t know that,” I corrected him.  “I know CPD officers found you hiding out at her house this morning. 
Hiding behind a woman like a little bitch.”

I expected a snarl or an outburst.  I hoped to provoke him.  But he just laughed.  “Jolene’s useful.  I was with her for the last two weeks.  You can ask her.”

“And I’m sure she’ll back you up.  That is, until we arrest her for aiding and abetting.  How long do you think she’ll protect you then?”  I placed special emphasis on
protect
in an effort to shame him.  A man like Parnell reveled in power over women, and the suggestion that he was reliant on one in any way should piss him off.  It should make him sloppy.

“You can’t arrest her for that,” he called my bluff.  “Who is she
aiding and abetting
?  I’m not a criminal.  I’ve never been convicted of anything, and you don’t seem to be charging me with anything, either.”

“I’ll do whatever I have to
to get her to talk,” I assured him.  “I’ll find out if you’re lying.”

He shrugged.  “You want to know where I was between seven and eight PM on
Wednesday?  I was fucking her.  I was fucking her, but I wasn’t
with
her.  You see, I was thinking about you, Katherine.  Jolene’s a kinky bitch.  She lets me choke her while I fuck her.  I was thinking about how my hands would look around your throat.  You have such beautiful skin.  I bet it would turn a nice shade of red while I choked you.  You’re a kinky bitch, too, aren’t you, Kathy?”

Kathy. 
Fear curled up my throat, cutting off my air as effectively as Parnell’s hands.

“Oh, look.  Now you’ve gone all pale. 
Very pretty skin.  So expressive.”

“You’re threatening to murder a Federal Agent,” I forced out.

His sick smile stayed fixed firmly in place.  “I didn’t say anything about killing you.  I wouldn’t kick a woman like you out of bed that quickly.”

An insinuation that he would want to keep a victim around for a while.
  And he called me Kathy.

He’s not The Mentor.  He’s not The Mentor.

Wasn’t he?  When The Mentor had attacked me, I couldn’t read anything about his identity.  Was he sitting right across from me, taunting me?

No.  It couldn’t be.  It didn’t make any sense.

“I didn’t think you liked to keep your women for long before you raped and murdered them,” I remarked as calmly as I could manage.

“Aren’t you a cold one?  Throwing out words like
rape
and
murder
like it doesn’t bother you.  But I know it does, Kathy.  Underneath that ice, you burn hot.  I could break that ice.  You’d be such a hot fuck.  You need to be broken.”

I wanted to vomit, I wanted to run, but he was getting so close to confessing something he shouldn’t. 
And so close to telling me whether or not he really was The Mentor.

“You’ll come to love me,”
he had said.

“So you think breaking me will make me love you?  Is that what you want? 
Love?”  I did my best impression of a scoff.  “I didn’t think you were that much of a pussy, Parnell.”

He jerked against the handcuffs that secured him to the table and growled at me.  I had finally gotten to him.  “I don’t want your fucking
love
, bitch.  I want your cunt.  I want your screams.  I want to watch the light leave your eyes.  I want me fucking you raw to be the last thing you know.”

I knew I should feel triumph.  The threat was enough for us to hold him for a little while.  Maybe we could get some charges to stick.  But all I felt was soul-deep disgust.

He leaned toward me, and his putrid breath fanned across my face.  “You think you know me.  You don’t know shit.  We’ll get better acquainted soon.”

The door opened behind me, and righteous rage pulsed into the room.  A familiar hand came down on my shoulder in a protective gesture, and I looked up to find Frank standing at my side.  His hard eyes were fixed on Parnell.

“You won’t be getting anywhere near her.”  He spoke calmly, quietly.  It was more terrifying than if he had shouted.  “You’re going to rot in prison.  You’ll die there, if I have any say in it.  And I do.”

Parnell paled as he realized his mistake.  He had provoked my dad, and now the full power of the FBI was going to come down on him.  He looked like he might piss himself.

Frank gave my shoulder a little squeeze.  “Come on, Katie.”  He walked me out of the room, and I found solace in his strength at my side.  Surely he could see that my job was tearing me apart.  He wouldn’t want that for me.  Maybe it was time to talk to him about a career change.

To my surprise, he didn’t let me go once we were outside interrogation.  Instead, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, and he pulled me close.  He rarely touched me in front of other people like this.  It went against his hard-ass persona.  He must be really worried about me to make such an aggressive show of support.  That almost scared me more than anything, even as I found comfort in his protection.

I noticed Colton shift uncomfortably on his feet, and I realized that Frank was staring him down.

“What do you think you’re doing, sending her in there with Parnell?”  He asked the captain in that same low, dangerous voice.

It was Reed who answered.  “It was Katie’s decision.  We respected that.”  He wasn’t throwing me under the bus; he was supporting me, like a partner should.

It wasn’t a smart move.  Frank’s glare turned on Reed, and I almost stepped between them to shield Reed from its piercing force.  But he didn’t need my help.  He swallowed, but he met Frank squarely in the eye.  After what felt like an eternity, Frank gave him a short nod of acknowledgement.  I could hardly believe it.

Then his stare turned on me.  I would have stepped away if it weren’t for his arm around my shoulders holding me in place.

“Don’t do anything like that again,” he reprimanded.  “I know you’re a great agent, but you don’t have to handle things like this on your own.”

I marveled at the words.  I had never expected Frank to tell me it was okay to lean on someone else.  Reed might be right, after all.  Frank just wanted what was best for me.  And if what was best for me didn’t include working for the FBI, he just might approve.

As soon as I caught The Mentor, I was going to talk to him about my career path.  Animals were so much kinder than humans.

Despite everything that was happening, I felt as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

“Do I want the good news or the bad news first?”  Reed asked his friend with the easy humor of familiarity, but there was a tense undercurrent to his tone.  Smith James’ expression was a twisted mask of anger.  The senior agent from the New York field office had flown to Chicago under the pretense of visiting his fiancé’s family, but now he was sitting in Reed’s hotel suite, grim-faced.

“The good news is the bad news.”  His voice was deep and gravelly, but not from weariness.  I had met Smith a few times before, and I knew this was just his usual ferocity, turned up a few notches.  “You remember the Latin King, Hugo Reyes, who we arrested when we busted Decadence for drug trafficking?”

Reed gave a tight, satisfied nod.  “The fucker I put in a coma.  I remember him.”

“Well, he’s awake now, and not so brain damaged that he’s forgotten what you did to him and why.  He’s turned on the Kings in exchange for being sent to a minimum security prison.  He feels safer with the white collar criminals than his brothers in the gang.  His brush with death has brought him to the realization that he doesn’t want to die for them, after all.”

“If you’re talking to us, I’m guessing his information pertains to more than just the Kings in New York,” I surmised.  “But why are we meeting here and not at the field office?”

He eyed me carefully, assessing.  I shifted under his scrutiny, and his features eased to something more genial.  “Because I trust Reed, and he trusts you.”

“So what did Reyes have to say that’s so important you couldn’t tell us over the phone or through email?”  Reed prompted.

“You remember how the Kings knew to try to run just before we came in for the bust?  We managed to round them up anyway, but the Russians got away,” his lips thinned.  “Reyes said they were tipped off.  He identified the man who warned him as Carl Martel.  So now we know how Martel knew to get out before we came in.  He abandoned Lydia to save his own skin.  The chaos that ensued when the Kings tried to escape gave him the opportunity to slip past us.”

“But who told Martel to get out?”
I came to the same nauseating conclusion he obviously had.  “His only ally.  The Mentor.  And the only way The Mentor would have known we were coming is if-”

“He’s one of us,” Reed finished for me.  “He’s NYPD or FBI.”

“It makes sense,” Smith rumbled.  “Martel was always one step ahead of us.  He knew when and where he could get to Lydia without getting caught.”  He paused and closed his eyes briefly, clearly reining in his fury at the memories of what had been done to the woman he loved; Lydia Chase was his fiancé.  “Then there’s the sniper attack on Tucker Chase and the advanced tech Martel used, but there isn’t any evidence of him having those skill sets.”

I paled, remembering the video clip of Reed and me that had appeared on my computer.  That hadn’t been the work of an amateur stalker; it had been The Mentor.  “Have we gotten anything off my computer?”  I asked Reed.  “You know, after…”  I trailed off, hoping no one had been able to recover the video even as I knew we needed more clues.

“Completely fried,” Reed responded, his hand finding mine.  “Tech couldn’t salvage anything.”