Nick knew the truth in Declan’s statement. Izzy had come to the rescue for both men more times than he cared to admit. If it hadn’t been for her quick thinking, Nick would’ve been dead long ago. The raised skin of the thick scar tissue that ran down his left arm, above the elbow, was a testament to that day and the tourniquet she’d used to save him.
After saying a quick goodbye to Val and the girls, Nick now sat in the confinement of the passenger seat of Declan’s older model red Toyota Corolla. He adjusted the seat back to give some much-needed leg room.
“I can see that you’re enjoying the spaciousness of this sweet ride,” Declan said laughing.
“It’s great. I feel like I’ve been stuffed into a clown car.”
“Sorry buddy, but Val has to pick up Laney from pre-K in a bit, and I feel better when she uses the SUV in this kind of weather,” Declan said.
“No need to apologize. And please tell Laney I said hi and that I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to see her.”
Nick looked around the small car and felt Declan staring at him. Declan gave a miniscule grin that bent wider as he looked over at his friend.
“What’s so funny?” Declan asked.
Nick shrugged his shoulders, broadening into a full smile.
“What?” Declan asked.
“I’ve never ridden in a getaway car before,” Nick said.
Declan sighed and drooped his head in mock shame. “Are you ever going to let me live that down?”
“Probably not,” Nick said.
The Corolla headed north on I-91 toward Bradley Airport travelling on the same road that Izzy had been killed on the previous morning. He was on the same path but in the opposite direction. It wasn’t lost on him that this was symbolic of their failed attempt at a relationship.
Chapter 10
Sleep hadn’t come to him during the return flight to Austin. A long day punctuated by the bounce and skid of the 737 on the cool tarmac of Bergstrom International. The plane’s touchdown left Nick suddenly exhausted as the weight of the past two days of heartache crashed down on him, compounded further by the endless hours of travel.
The airport was relatively deserted minus his accompanying travelers. Nick looked down at his watch. The digital numbers read 10:30 p.m. The majority of flights had long since reached their final destinations, and the overnight cleanup crew was already hard at work preparing for the next day. He bypassed baggage claim. His lowly backpack was all that he carried. His suitcase was with Anaya in Pidgeon, Michigan. He’d borrowed a change of clothes from Declan, as they were about the same size, and was wearing a blue sweatshirt with a Rick and Morty logo centered on the front. Declan had given strict warning to take care of his beloved hoodie.
Simmons had sent him a message that she’d be sending someone to pick him up when he arrived. Nick stepped outside onto the curb and scanned for his ride. A young man with a crewcut, who looked no more than twenty, stood by a dark blue sedan and waved to him sheepishly. Nick looked over his shoulder to verify that this gesture was for him and then, seeing nobody behind him, nodded a silent acknowledgement.
“Agent Lawrence?”
“Yup,” Nick said as he walked up to man.
“I’m Gary Salazar. I was told to take you directly to see Agent Simmons,” Salazar said.
Nick noticed that the young agent’s face flushed during his introduction. Salazar awkwardly stuck out his hand. Nick gave it a firm shake.
“When did you graduate?” Nick asked.
“That obvious huh? Last week.”
“Jesus, how old are you?” Nick asked.
“Twenty-three.”
“Straight out of college to Quantico?”
“Yessir. I’m very excited to get started. It’s always been a dream of mine ever since I can remember.”
Nick said nothing and entered the vehicle, taking his place in the front passenger seat. He unshouldered his backpack, setting it at his feet.
“It’s a real honor to meet you Agent Lawrence. I’ve heard all about you at the academy. They gave a lecture seminar on how you and your team stopped that terrorist,” Salazar gushed. “Really impressive stuff.”
“I’m sure most of it was bullshit. And call me Nick.”
“Yessir,” Salazar said.
“Drop the sir. I’m not your supervisor and this isn’t the academy.” Nick realized that he was more snappy than normal and tried to dial back. “So where are we meeting Simmons?”
“At your office.”
The sedan pulled out from the airport and onto the arterial stretch of State Highway 183 that circumvented the congestion of downtown Austin. Although the evening rush had dissipated hours ago, there were still pockets of traffic. The endless sprawl of Austin’s population created a commuter nightmare.
The trip was relatively short, just over forty minutes, but after the day of roundtrip traveling Nick was suddenly overcome by fatigue. He fought to keep his eyes open. The low hum of the engine and rumble of the tires worked against his battle against sleep.
His phone startled him as the alert vibrated, acknowledging the receipt of a new text message.
It was Anaya. How are you holding up?
Nick had totally neglected to let her know about his return to Texas. He debated on whether he should continue holding back that information and wait until tomorrow.
He thought, No need to worry her tonight. He knew her too well and came to the conclusion she’d be more upset that he’d kept it from her. She’d read more into it than necessary.
He responded. I’m in Austin. Just landed. Called back for a case. I’ll tell you more about it when I call in the morning.
Be safe. Love you, she responded.
Get some rest. Love you too. Nick slipped his phone back into his pocket and then rubbed his eyes. He was glad that she didn’t press him further on the matter. He had to prepare himself to meet Simmons.
“Got any coffee going back at the office?” Nick asked, breaking the silence of the drive. He hoped that conversation would help with the drowsiness.
“Not sure. If not, I can make some,” Salazar said.
His eagerness to please would have been endearing if Nick wasn’t so depleted. He had little room for pleasantries at the moment and eagerly awaited an end to this night. Nick looked out the window, recognizing the familiar landscape of the buildings set against the night sky and knew they’d be arriving at their destination shortly.
“Tell me about Simmons,” Nick said, staring into the night without looking over at Salazar.
“Not sure what you want me to tell. I only just met her today. I’m still in the orientation phase and have no cases yet so I got tasked to pick you up from the airport. Low man on the totem pole.”
“Well aren’t you fresh out the gate from recruit land? Didn’t you have to do assessments back at Quantico, or has that important piece of investigations been torn from the lesson books?” Nick asked.
“Yeah, but that was just training. I’ve never tried to do it outside of the academy. Not sure I’m the best guy to ask.”
“Give it your best shot. I’ve never met Simmons. So here’s your test. Take a minute and give me your behavioral assessment of her. After I meet with her, I’ll give you your first real world grade,” Nick said, cocking his eyebrow and looking down his nose at him for added effect.
“Okay. This isn’t some kind of prank you play on the new guy is it?” Salazar said.
“I hope you’re not this hesitant when it comes to field work,” Nick said, knowing this would nudge the eager-to-please young agent.
“Well here goes nothing. She’s small statured, in her early to mid-forties. She works out. Probably some combination of cardio work with some Pilates or strength training. She’s got red hair that appears to be natural and she—”
“I hope to God you’re not going to tell me you think she uses conditioner. Give me the assessment. You’re telling me what she looks like. I want you to tell me about her,” Nick chided.<
br />
“You sure this isn’t going to get back to her?” Salazar asked self-consciously.
“Are you going to fail your first test as an agent? We’re pulling up to the building in less than a minute. Tick tock.”
“She overcompensates with aggression. I would describe her as hostile. She’s very direct and seems to derive pleasure in making people uncomfortable. Simmons is obviously intelligent, otherwise she wouldn’t be in the position she’s in. There’s a certain clout about her, and the other agents, including the boss, give her wide berth when she moves about the office. I know she is BAU so maybe she’s spent so much time studying other people she forgot how to be one herself. Basically, if I had to sum her up in one word it’d be bitch.”
Salazar pulled into a parking spot in the nearly vacant lot of the FBI’s Austin field office. Technically, it was referred to as a satellite office or resident agency of the bigger San Antonio field office, but Nick didn’t care about such labels. Salazar put the vehicle in park, but left the engine idling.
Nick gave a wide-eyed look toward the rookie agent in the driver’s seat as if he’d been offended at the assessment.
“Do you know that Simmons is my long-time partner and best friend?” Nick said.
Salazar’s head fell forward and came to rest on the worn rubber of the steering wheel. “Shit. I should’ve known better.”
Nick watched the tormented Salazar squirm in anguish. He allowed this to continue a moment longer before deciding to let him off the hook.
Nick chuckled at his ruse. “I’m just messing with you. Like I said, I’ve never met the woman. Wow, you almost fell apart on me there. I thought I was going to have to call in the medics,” Nick said, giving the green agent a slight smile.
Salazar exhaled loudly. “You definitely got me good. I’m not going to lie; I wasn’t going to go back in that building if that were true. The woman terrifies me.”
“Well let’s go meet this scary lady,” Nick said, exiting the vehicle.
He shouldered his backpack and marched off toward the building.
He entered through the first set of doors which automatically opened as he stepped on a sensor pad. That same sensor pad also calculated his weight and stored it in a database. Three different cameras affixed at different heights and angles captured both agents as they stood in the entrance. Nick then entered the sequence code into the keypad that allowed after-hours access to the building.
The interior doors slid open, and Nick stepped into the all-to-familiar main lobby with Salazar in tow. Nick considered this building a second home. A home now host to a fiery redhead with an agenda unknown to him. His concern grew with each step he took.
Chapter 11
The elevator chimed, alerting their arrival on the third floor. The doors parted, and Nick was greeted with the glow of the pale lighting of the office space. It seemed brighter than normal in contrast to the dark, moonless night.
“Just so you know, she’s kind of taken over here,” Salazar said meekly.
“Great,” Nick said, letting out a sigh.
He walked toward his cubicle, among the small cluster of partitioned work spaces. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw the woman who’d ordered him back to Texas without any care for the tragedy that befell Izzy. She stood hunched over the conference table sifting through a stack of files. She must’ve heard their entry because she turned her head. Her distinctive shoulder-length red hair fell to the side as she visually assessed him. Salazar’s physical description had been spot on and she was actually more attractive than he’d anticipated, but the sight of her caused him to involuntarily clench his teeth.
She gestured to an empty chair to her left but didn’t smile. Nick didn’t acknowledge her and passed by, proceeding directly to his desk. He dropped his backpack at the foot of his three-drawer filing cabinet, grabbed his mug, and then made a beeline for the small break room.
He smelled the coffee as he entered and saw that a full pot waited. So far it was the only upside to his forced return. He poured the steaming black liquid into his cup. A hint of hazelnut wafted up. Nick wasn’t particular about his coffee as long as it was piping hot and fully loaded with caffeine. He tossed a scoop of sugar in and gave it a quick swirl. Nick held the cup close to his lips before taking a sip allowing the steam to lick at his face.
He turned to see Salazar standing in the doorway. Nick gave a half-hearted smile.
“If you’re all set, I’m going to head out,” Salazar said, glancing over his shoulder toward Simmons. “Unless you want me to stay.”
“I think I can handle myself. I’ll grab one of the spare cars to get home,” Nick said.
“It was really great meeting you. I can’t wait to tell my buddies from the academy that I met the legend.”
“You can also tell them that the stories are always far different from the reality.” Nick paused, taking another sip. “It’s time for me to see how accurate your assessment of Simmons was. If you were half-right, then I’m in for a long night.”
Nick noticed that Salazar wasted no time in vacating the office area. Nick turned his sights on the conference room. A glass panel lined the wall, exposing the rectangular room with a large oval table at its center. There were several television monitors attached to the walls bookending the table. The back wall was an end-to-end dry erase board for writing notes. The room was used for big cases that required the brain power of multiple investigators. It looked like Simmons had taken it upon herself to effectively occupy that territory.
Even though the door to the room was open, Nick knocked lightly on the glass, announcing his presence, although he knew she was well aware of him.
“Have a seat. I see you helped yourself to the coffee I made,” Simmons said.
“Long day,” Nick responded flatly.
“It’s going to be a little bit longer.”
“Listen Cheryl, I came here at your request on a really shitty day. So, let’s get right to it,” Nick said.
He took a pull from his mug trying without much success to swallow down his anger.
“I’m sorry for your loss, but this situation is time critical.”
Nick looked at the woman before him. She remained standing and was stacking the files she’d been pouring over when he’d arrived. Simmons was attractive, and now that he saw her up close, he noticed that her eyes were a bright emerald green that complimented her fair skin and fire red hair. He now understood why Salazar had difficulty evaluating her personality. Nick worked hard to see past her physical beauty and begin his own assessment.
“Why was I pulled from a family emergency? Why am I here?” Nick asked.
“I’ll get to that, but first I’m going to need to ask you to answer some questions,” Simmons said.
Simmons cleared off the table space nearest them and sat down. She reached down to a worn leather satchel resting against the leg of her chair and retrieved a small audio recorder and pad of paper.
“What’s with the recorder?” Nick asked, eyeing Simmons.
“I like to make sure that I get everything correct. I can’t have any of the details slip past me. I have the notepad but I prefer to observe more than write when I talk to someone.”
“Talk or interrogate?”
“Talk. Unless you feel an interrogation is warranted?” Simmons said. Nick noticed that she was giving him an intense stare.
“I’d hope not. I still don’t even know what I’m doing here,” Nick said.
“I think you know more than you’re letting on. And from our earlier phone conversation it looks like somebody gave you a little heads-up.”
“Apparently not enough for me to understand what any of this has to do with me,” Nick said.
“That’s what we’re going to try to figure out,” Simmons said, reaching her hand out toward the recorder. “I’m going to press record now. Understood?”
Nick nodded. He wasn’t used to being on this side of an interview and he didn’t like
it.
“Tell me about Richard Pentlow,” Simmons said.
“Pentlow? He’s a child rapist.”
“And?” Simmons asked.
“When he was caught he was found in a hotel room with an eleven-year-old girl tied to a bed.”
“What happened to him?” Simmons asked patiently.
“He was arrested and was awaiting trial. Last time I saw him he was in the Travis County Jail. We had a long talk and he confessed,” Nick said.
“And what did the little birdie say when he called you?”
“I know Pentlow’s dead,” Nick said curtly.
“You know more than that Agent Lawrence,” Simmons said cocking her head to the side exposing the gentle contour of her neckline.
Nick sat silently. He leaned back and folded his arms, emotionally closing himself off.
“I hope we’re not going to play games for too much longer. But no worries either way because I can go all night,” Simmons said.
The double entendre was not lost on Nick.
“There was a message,” Nick said.
“And?”
“And, that’s it. I don’t know what the message said. Only that it was written to me,” Nick said, trying to salvage the slip up and protect Jones.
“Okay. Now was that so hard?” Simmons said, softening slightly.
“I didn’t kill Pentlow if that’s what you’re driving at,” Nick said.
“Did I ask you if you killed Pentlow?” Simmons said.
Nick said nothing.
“You don’t fit the bill anyway,” Simmons said.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been tracking the Ferryman for years. I’d like to think I’ve got a particular knack for seeing the details. You don’t fit the profile I’ve developed,” Simmons said.
“How so?” Nick said, trying to subtly seize control of the interview from Simmons.
“For starters, you’re too big. The Ferryman is small in stature,” Simmons said. “And your psych doesn’t match.”
The Rabbit's Hole Page 6