In A Fix - Mary Calmes Page 0,32
and forth to Mexico. She had the money that Brig was giving her, which we know she was giving to her friends. Suárez sees her there at the compound, or whatever, figures out who she is, and grabs her. That all makes sense.”
“Oh, thank God. I’m so glad you’re here to confirm it all makes sense,” he gritted out, glaring at me.
“But then suddenly she’s bragging, on camera no less, about killing Eston Travers?” I goaded him. “Really, Special Agent? Where the hell does that come from?”
“She still hated him,” he replied defensively.
“After almost ten years?” I made a face. “Come on.”
“Why not?” he demanded, the anger curling in his voice like rising smoke.
“When did she allegedly kill Travers?”
“Around the same time Suárez kidnapped her.”
“And you don’t find that odd? That timing makes perfect sense to you?”
“I––”
“Are you guys giving her immunity for his death as well?”
He glanced at Brig and then back to me.
“So she’s okay on embezzlement and drug trafficking, but she’s going to get the needle for killing Travers.”
He exhaled sharply. “That part I don’t know. That’s the DEA wheeling and dealing.”
“Come on,” I pressed him. “This doesn’t sound shady to you? Do you actually think she’s the one who killed Travers?”
“She hated him enough to kill him,” he told me before closing his eyes for a moment. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and I heard the long sigh before his beautiful eyes were back on me. “All the times she went round and round with him, all the times he came out on top and made her feel less than—she says in the confession that she enjoyed finally sending him where he belonged.”
“And where is that?”
“To hell.”
I scoffed. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“It is, and I would have figured it for bullshit, but if you heard the way she talks about the environment, we all figured she meant it.”
“Okay,” Brig said, interrupting. “So then she’s going to jail for murder.”
“Again,” Dallas barked, fisting his hands, making the muscles in his shoulders bunch, “I have no idea.”
“If she killed Travers, then she should,” I said to Brig. “Don’t you agree?”
He nodded.
“Your sister’s a monster,” Dallas reiterated matter-of-factly. “And in case you forgot, your buddy Digby is a disgusting piece of shit,” he remarked with a sneer as he stalked back to the table and flopped down into the chair. “And now that we don’t need him, his ass is going to jail if he refuses to play ball with the DEA to help bust lots of your friends.”
Brig nodded quickly.
“It’s interesting that he thinks enough of you to try and lie,” Dallas stated, tipping his head, studying Brig. “He figures drug smuggling you’ll forgive, but not him wanting to fuck underage girls.”
I crossed the room and retook my seat beside Brig.
“I guess that says something about you, huh?”
“What?”
Dallas’s bored shrug, coupled with the smirk he gave Brig and the silence, implied exactly what he thought.
“Meaning that I’m fine with one and not the other? Is that what you’re alluding to, Agent Bauer? That drugs are fine by me, but I draw the line at having sex with minors?”
“Maybe,” he muttered, stretching, telling me that he was trying to bait Brig, but he didn’t genuinely believe the man culpable. Had he thought badly of Brig, he would have been laser focused and combative. It was hard to hide revulsion. “I have to wonder how much you truly know about his business.”
“Nothing,” Brig rasped, his face crumpling. “I don’t know anything beyond what I told you, that he’s the go-to guy for small amounts for recreational use.”
“I don’t know,” Dallas murmured, straightening up, taking a breath. “But if you’ve got secrets, now’s the time to get everything off your chest.”
“You don’t know me,” Brig sputtered, taking gulping breaths. “I’m not like him or my sister. I’ve never—I’m not… I could never hurt anyone.”
“You’re hurting your fiancée, aren’t you? And how about Mr. Foster?”
Brig’s eyes went round as he gasped.
“Hey,” I said sharply, and Brig turned instantly to me, my tone leaving no room for any other choice. “Agent Bauer overheard us when we were talking,” I assured him, taking hold of his shoulder. “That mirror over there is the same as in every police procedural you’ve ever seen. It’s two-way, and the room is wired for sound. That’s all. Don’t let him get under your skin; you can fix whatever you need to.”
“Listen,” Dallas began, “we don’t need to be enemies here. I just––”
“Back. Off,” I