Page 41 of The Veteran
“Behind the observation mirror.” He gave me a warning look. “You’re not getting into the same room as that scumbag.”
I shrugged. “Fine with me.”
Kade’s eyes tracked downward and I flushed. I’d forgotten I was naked. I didn’t cover myself though. I wasn’t ashamed of my body, and he seemed to like what he saw. I slid my feet off the edge of the bed and pulled my pajamas back on. I’d have to get other clothes from my own bedroom. I only hoped none of the guards outside had heard us earlier. I waited until Kade was decent, then opened the door and crossed the hall. My new clothes were piled in the corner of the room—presumably an officer had rifled through them to check for evidence—and I put on a pair of pale blue yoga pants and a white top. There was a roaring sound overhead, and I frowned. What could possibly be making that much noise?
“Sage?” Kade appeared in the doorway. “Are you packed?”
“I can be in a couple of minutes.” I gestured toward the ceiling. “What’s that?”
“King sent a chopper to take us to the police station so we don’t miss the interrogation.”
My eyebrows flew up. I hated to think how much all of this must be costing Ronan.
“It’s not a big deal,” he said, apparently reading my expression. “The company owns the chopper and the pilot works for us. Grab your things.”
I shoved the clothes into a bag and packed my toiletries. “What about the food?”
“The guards will take it home. Don’t worry, it won’t go to waste. You ready?”
I nodded, and he took my hand and led me outside. The chopper had landed in the center of the street, dull gray in the morning light. I noticed that several of the neighbors were staring in fascination through their windows. It was just as well we weren’t trying to be discreet anymore because this would have the entire neighborhood gossiping. Kade escorted me to the chopper and I climbed up inside, taking one of the seats behind the pilot. Kade sat beside me and the pilot shut the door and donned a headset. A few minutes later, we were hovering over Chicago. I gazed over the cityscape, trying to see as much of it as I could. I’d never been in a helicopter before, and the view was much better than it was through the tiny windows of a plane. I picked out a few key buildings against the skyline. The Willis Tower. The St Regis.
We slowly descended, landing atop a blocky brick building. Kade and I stayed seated until the pilot opened the hatch and waved us off. A pair of uniformed officers stood near the landing pad, awaiting our arrival.
“The interview is about to begin,” one of them called over the whirring of the blades. “Come this way.”
They led us through a dingy building with off-white walls and wooden frames around the windows and doors. We went down two flights of stairs and entered a corridor, off which we were guided into a small chamber with a portal that looked into another room, where Ronan was seated opposite a lean man with a bruised face and a swollen eye socket. I studied the man, wondering if I might recognize him from the past. He could be one of Dad’s former acquaintances. But he didn’t look familiar. The door in the other room opened and Ronan glanced over. He gave a slight nod to whoever was at the entrance, then cleared his throat. I was surprised by how well the sound carried through.
“Can they see us?” I asked the officer who’d remained with us.
“No. The window looks like a mirror from their side,” he replied.
“How much did he tell Detective Lee?” Kade asked.
The officer gave him a reproachful look. “I can’t say.”
“Fair enough.”
I sunk onto an uncomfortable plastic chair and settled in to watch.
“Peter Black,” Ronan said, placing a closed manila folder on the table in front of himself. “You have quite a record. Dishonorably discharged from the navy. Two counts of assault, one of breaking and entering, and a D.U.I. Do you prefer to be called ‘Peter’ or ‘Mr. Black’?”
Peter Black’s shoulders were slumped, but he raised his eyes from the tabletop temporarily. “Don’t care.”
“Then we’ll go with ‘Peter.’” Ronan’s tone was brisk but almost friendly. “Let’s get to the point, Peter. Why did you break into the cottage in Maple and attempt to strangle Miss Nichols in the early hours of this morning?”
Peter sighed. “I wasn’t trying to kill her. I just needed to knock her out so I could get her into the car, and that seemed like the quietest way to do it.”
It was strange, how cavalierly he spoke of abducting me. I couldn’t fathom a lifestyle where that wasn’t something out of the ordinary.
“Why?” Ronan repeated.
Peter shrugged one shoulder, then winced in pain. “A couple of guys paid me to do it. I was supposed to drop her at a rest stop off the highway between Chicago and Maple.”
Ronan opened the folder and slid a photograph across the table. I couldn’t see the details of the image, but when Peter nodded and said, “Yeah, that’s them,” I assumed it must be a picture of Getty and Baker.
“The police have already checked at the rest stop,” the officer beside me murmured. “They weren’t there. When Black didn’t turn up on time, they must have realized something was wrong.”
“Damn,” Kade muttered.