Secrets She Kept

by Debra Webb

  “I’m supposed to be meeting with the man in charge,” she reminded number one.

  “Tomorrow.”

  The door slammed in her face.

  She turned around. A dim light came from around the perimeter of the room. There was a steel cot, a toilet hanging on the wall with a sink formed in the tank. Just like the ones she had seen in the few prison cells she’d visited.

  With a quick drawing back of the covers, she checked the mattress, ensured the sheets weren’t tainted with anything she could see or smell. Fabric smelled clean enough. She paced the small room and considered her options. There had been four men with Prentiss. She hadn’t seen any others when they arrived but that didn’t mean there weren’t hundreds around here somewhere. There was no accurate body count for this group.

  If the Resurrection was like most of these extremist groups, there would be several hundred on-site. This was obviously a headquarters. The setup was too good to be anything else. The Bureau had been gathering information on extremist groups like this for decades. But this one had somehow managed to stay under the radar. The members didn’t talk. Fear, she imagined. It was human nature to talk about the things in which one was interested. Being a part of something like Resurrection would typically provide bragging rights for those who had a penchant for the extreme. But there was no bragging from these members.

  Their silence made them even more dangerous. Restricted the available intelligence to gather, making the jobs of Sadie and others like her far more difficult. Law enforcement personnel depended upon informants and the information garnered on the streets. When information stopped flowing, it was impossible to find footing in a given situation.

  Sadie braced her hands on her hips and moved around the room again, this time more slowly. She considered the walls, thought about the door when it had opened. The walls were likely made of concrete just as the door was. Thick concrete, eight inches at least. The floor and ceiling of this building appeared to be the same as the walls. The smooth, cold finish of the concrete was interrupted only by the small blocks of light around the walls near the floor. The cot was metal, the sheets a thin material more like paper than fabric. No good for constructing a hangman’s noose. She turned back to the door. The lock wasn’t the usual residential sort. It was electronic and required a code.

  Getting out of here wouldn’t be easy. If she was really lucky, Levi Winters was in this same building. Assuming he was a hostage. Hopefully, he would know a way out and would be willing to go with her.

  That was the problem with being underground or, perhaps, burrowed into a mountainside. Getting out was generally somewhat complicated.

  She’d been in tighter spots, Sadie reminded herself.

  All she had to do was find her target and she would locate a way out of here.

  It was what she did.

  Chapter 3

  The woman was trouble.

  Smith Flynn studied the screen monitoring her movements. She paced the six-by-eight cell as if the journey might end some other way the next time she turned around. She hadn’t stopped since being placed inside. This restless behavior was for the benefit of anyone observing.

  He had watched her arrival. She had walked into the compound, shoulders back, chin held high, all the while discreetly surveying everything in her field of vision. Sadie Buchanan was neither afraid nor uncertain. Her arrival at this compound was not by accident any more than was the timing of her appearance. She was on a mission.

  Whatever she was doing here, unfortunately she was his issue now.

  He did not like unexpected issues. Even fearless, attractive ones like Sadie Buchanan.

  “What’s your take on this new development?”

  The voice drew Smith from his musings. He turned to Prentiss. The older man had been running the group known as the Resurrection for a very long time. He rarely had much to say but when he spoke anyone within hearing distance listened—not because he was so articulate or interesting, but because they wanted to live. Prentiss did not take disrespect well.

  “She has an agenda,” Smith said, not telling the other man anything he didn’t already know. “It’ll take some time to determine what that agenda is.”

  Prentiss nodded, his attention fixed on the screen. “I don’t like killing women. There’s something innately wrong with a man killing a woman. It’s a sin like no other, except for killing a child. Any man who would kill a woman or a child is lower than low.” His gaze swung to Smith. “But, if you tell me she’s lying, I will kill her.”

  Smith didn’t waste time pretending to consider the situation. “I can tell you right now that she is lying. No question there.” He turned his attention back to the screen. “The question is why. We’ll need that answer before you kill her.”

  Prentiss nodded. “You’re right. Until we have the answer, she belongs to you. Do with her what you will, just get the truth for me.”

  “I always do.”

  The old man stood and headed for the door. Smith waited until the door closed before turning back to the screen. He wondered if this woman had any idea just how much trouble she was in. Whatever she thought she’d come here to do, she had made a most regrettable mistake.

  He exited his cabin, locking the door behind him, and crossed to the detention center. No one questioned his movements. They knew better. The door was unlocked and opened for him as if he was a king. Once inside he said to the guard, “I’ll be using interview room two for an hour or so. Bring me Levi Winters.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The guard hustled away to do Smith’s bidding. Smith took the short corridor on the right and then an immediate left where six interview rooms waited. Each room was equipped with very specific instruments for persuading answers from those who had the misfortune of ending up in one of the spaces. Before going to interview room two, he stepped into the observation room and checked the monitoring system.

  Two minutes elapsed before the guard entered interview room two. He settled the prisoner Levi Winters into the chair on the side of the metal table facing the hidden camera. Once Winters was secured to the bolt in the concrete floor, the guard exited. Smith considered Winters for a longer moment. He was younger than this woman who’d gotten herself invited to this ultrasecure place.

  More important than any other aspect of this prisoner, he was scared. Scared to death.

  * * *

  They were probably going to kill him now.

  Levi’s whole body felt as cold as ice. There was no telling what they had planned for him this time. That bastard Flynn had done things to him, made him talk when he didn’t want to talk.

  Levi closed his eyes and lowered his head. He was doomed. All he’d wanted was to find the truth. To prove to his sister that he wasn’t a bad guy like their brother, Marcus. He’d let her down so badly already it hurt to think about it. Even under the circumstances. He hadn’t helped Cece the way he should have so he’d decided to prove the whole truth about their daddy and all that he and Marcus had done, like ordering the death of the FBI guy, Jack Kemp.

  Jack had been good to Levi. He’d made him feel like his life mattered—like he mattered. Levi had wanted to be like him. And then the guy had disappeared.

  What nobody knew was that Levi remembered the night their mother had died, no matter that he’d been nothing but a little kid. She and that bastard who was their father had been arguing so loudly and so desperately—arguing, screaming and crying. Then suddenly the arguing had stopped. Levi had crept out of his bedroom and to the top of the stairs. Their momma had lain at the bottom of the stairs. The crying had started again, only that time it was Levi. The only thing he remembered after that was Cece holding him and their grandmother screaming. Eventually she had calmed down and taken them home with her.

  The certainty and hatred that had sprouted that night had grown and grown but before Levi could work up the courag
e to do what needed to be done, their younger sister, Sierra, had killed the old bastard. It should have been Levi. He should have killed that devil and taken care of the family when their older brother, Marcus, had not. But Levi had been weak. He’d been weak and afraid. He’d let Cece down and now he was going to die without having made up for the past.

  He wished he could see Cece one more time and tell her how sorry he was. She had paid the price for all of them.

  The door opened and Levi froze. It would be him—the one the other prisoners called the Interrogator. Levi’s body shuddered at the idea of what he might have planned for him this time. Why had he screwed up so badly yet again? All he wanted at this point was to go home. To show his sister how much he loved her and to start doing the right thing with his life.

  He wasn’t like his father or his older brother. Evil didn’t swim in his blood.

  He just wanted to go home.

  Smith Flynn walked into the room. He had the lightest gray eyes, almost transparent. That and his blond hair almost made him look like some guy from Norway or Sweden or something. He didn’t look like anyone from around here. He was tall, six-four at least. And strong. You could tell he pumped iron. But he hadn’t laid a hand on Levi. He had other ways to induce pain. He used equipment and his words. He knew the things to say to strike terror in a man.

  Before Levi could stop himself, his gaze flitted to the far end of the room where the metal cabinets stood. Inside those locked doors were instruments he hoped to never see again. Evidently he wasn’t going to be so lucky. Flynn wouldn’t be here otherwise.

  The worst part about the whole damned mess was that this guy wanted some truth from Levi, but he didn’t have anything to trade for his life or even for a little more time free of torture. Levi had nothing. He had come to this place to prove something. All those years ago when he’d first joined the Resurrection so Jack Kemp would see how smart he was, he’d made a mistake. Truth was he’d let Jack use him. He’d needed that father figure Jack represented so badly. Levi would have done anything to impress him. But he’d gone too far.

  All he’d done was gotten into trouble. Now he was likely going to get dead the same way Jack had.

  Levi would end up in hell with his damned daddy.

  “We have a new problem, Levi.”

  Fear tightened around his neck. Even the man’s voice had a way of terrifying anyone who happened to be stuck in the room with him. Deep, dark, dangerous. Fear twisted inside Levi. Why didn’t this Interrogator just kill him and get it over with? He didn’t want to die but he couldn’t take this much longer.

  “I already told you I don’t know anything. I only came here to find the truth about an old friend. I swear that’s it. The whole story. The truth. There’s nothing else.”

  “Jack Kemp,” Flynn said. “You told me that before. Tell me again why you think Kemp came here?”

  “He was from the FBI,” Levi said. No point pretending he could hide anything from this bastard. The Interrogator had ways of digging stuff out of him. “He asked me to help him get information about the group called the Resurrection, but I went too far.”

  “Meaning you joined the calling all those years ago? Nine or so years ago, am I right? You did this to help your friend.”

  Levi nodded. “But Jack disappeared before I could tell him anything. I figured y’all found out what he was up to and got rid of him.”

  “Your brother, Marcus, was responsible for what happened to him, Levi. If you had seen the news recently, you would know this. He confessed.”

  Levi was surprised that Marcus confessed to giving Jack to those crazy people. The only way he would have admitted to anything was to save his sorry ass. Hurt twisted in Levi’s chest. “What about my sisters? Did you see anything about my sisters?”

  Flynn directed that icy glare at him. “Do I look like I would waste my time keeping up with your sisters?”

  Levi blinked, bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood. He wanted to hurt this guy. But he’d heard all about him—the Interrogator. The one who got the answers for the Council. The one who knew how to cause pain. Fear snaked through Levi. He shouldn’t have come back here. He’d wanted to help...but he’d just made another mistake. Jack was dead by now, no question. Marcus was in jail. God only knew about Sierra. Hopefully Cece was okay.

  Flynn placed a photo of a woman on the table. “Do you know her?”

  The woman had black hair and eyes nearly as dark, like a raven. Her skin was dark, like she’d lain on a beach all summer. She was pretty but he hadn’t seen her before. He shook his head. Prayed that was the right answer because it was the only one he had. “No. She doesn’t look familiar.”

  “Are you certain? Think carefully, Levi. If you lie to me, it will be much worse for you.”

  “I swear to God I don’t know the woman. I have never seen her before.”

  Flynn said nothing for a long moment. Levi’s chest felt ready to explode with tension. Why the hell didn’t the bastard just go ahead and tell him he was a dead man? If death was coming, he’d rather know now and brace for it. He was sick of these games. He did not know this woman. He did not know any other information related to the FBI or this damned place or any damned thing else that mattered. His foot started to bounce, making his shackles rattle. He forced himself to still. Losing it wouldn’t help his situation.

  “I believe you, Levi.” Flynn withdrew the photo, tucked it away in a folder. “My true concern is that she appeared here only a few days after you.”

  Agony welled inside Levi. “I don’t know why. I don’t know her. Why don’t you ask her?”

  “Not to worry, I certainly will. I think I might know why she’s here but I need to be certain.”

  Levi blinked. He didn’t have a damned clue where this was going or what this woman had to do with him. He just wanted to go back to his cell and be left alone. He didn’t want the Interrogator opening up those cabinets over there the way he’d done before. Pulling out his torture tools and making Levi nearly piss his pants.

  Ever since he was a teenager, Levi had thought that to some degree he was brave. He’d thought he was the kind of man who did the right thing. A sort of hero. At least he’d wanted to be. He’d hoped he could be a hero for his sister Cece and help her prove her innocence...but he hadn’t helped. And he damned sure wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t even brave.

  He was a coward.

  Nothing but a stinking coward.

  “Can I count on your help, Levi?”

  Levi snapped his focus back to the man. He swallowed back the bile that had risen in his throat and tried to slow his pounding heart. “Yeah, sure. What do I have to do?”

  “I haven’t worked out all the details just yet. We’ll talk again soon.”

  The man stood and walked out.

  Levi sagged in his chair. Squeezed his eyes shut and thanked God he’d survived a second encounter with the Interrogator.

  Whatever he wanted, Levi could do it. He would do it. At this point obedience was probably the only way to stay alive. Cece would want him to stay alive. She would. He knew this without question. His sister would absolutely want him to do whatever necessary to stay alive.

  Even if he was the worst kind of coward.

  * * *

  Smith returned to his cabin and turned on the security feed to watch the woman.

  She had stopped her pacing. Had decided to conserve her energy. He suspected she was above average in intelligence. Certainly she was cockier than the average agent. Her dark hair and eyes, the olive skin, gave her an exotic appearance. Beyond the superficial, she looked strong. Undeniable curves, but not soft. Lean. Toned muscle. This was a woman who worked hard to be prepared.

  Her claim of possessing useful information was not a particularly original tactic. Her methods of getting their attention, however, were damned original. To garner the attention of Prenti
ss himself, then get herself picked up by members and brought here this way was ingenious. And extremely risky. Whatever she wanted, it was important. Important enough to risk her life.

  Reconnaissance teams had been doubled and were out there now, patrolling and watching for trouble. No matter that the team that had brought her here had ensured they weren’t followed. Her clothes and personal items had been removed before she left that godforsaken church. That level of motivation demanded careful consideration.

  It was possible a tracking device was implanted somewhere on her slim body but the initial scan had not picked up on anything close to the surface. Her clothes and cell phone had been cleaned. As he’d anticipated, her phone was more or less a blank slate. Anything incriminating had been wiped. It had been reduced to a mere tracking device. This was a very well-trained agent.

  Rather than take the risk the initial scan had missed something, he picked up a secure internal line and called Medical. “Run deep scans on Prisoner Buchanan. Send the results to me ASAP.”

  Smith ended the call, his attention still focused on the woman. He watched as she whirled around at the sound of her cell door opening. She didn’t resist when the guard cuffed her hands behind her back and then escorted her out of the confining space. Smith followed the monitors, watching her move down the long white corridor and out onto the quad. The two crossed the common area and entered the smaller medical building. Smith switched to another camera and followed their movements inside.

  The guard took a position at the door leading to Imaging while the waiting technician assumed custody of the prisoner.