Page 48 of Shielding his Legacy
“Well, I’m not going to tell you.”
The corners of Gavin’s mouth lifted into a grin. “She doesn’t want to give them any other witnesses to threaten. Good girl.”
“One man’s ‘good girl’ is another man’s obstructor of justice.”
It was Jacoby who’d spoken, and all three men slowly turned to stare him down.
“Can we take a break?” asked Eva. “I’d like to take care of my daughter.”
The interrogator scootched his chair in more tightly to the table. “Soon. I have a few more questions.”
Eva crossed her arms. “I’m not telling you who developed the film.”
“Then let’s talk about what’s in the pictures.”
Sloan popped out his sucker again and pointed it at the TV. “Does this clown know this isn’t a real interrogation?”
“He knows the task force is watching,” said Jacoby.
Gavin turned toward him, noting the politician’s grin had vanished, one arched eyebrow now the dominant feature on the deputy commissioner’s face. “And?” Gavin asked.
Now Jacoby smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant grin. “And he might be playing along with your agenda, but he’s going to make Miss Livingston sweat—or he’ll look like an inept interrogator in front of his peers.”
“What if she needs to take care of her baby?” asked Gavin, suddenly questioning if Jacoby—or anyone in the police force—was truly, unquestionably trustworthy.
“Then maybe she should answer the man’s questions.” Jacoby leaned back in his leather chair. “I’d sit back and relax, gentlemen. This is our show now.”
24
“Ialready told you, I don’t know the man who was killed.” Eva leaned forward and resisted the urge to bury her head in her crossed arms. “I was there taking pictures for a photography contest. I just happened to get the shooting on film.”
“And who, exactly, is in these pictures?” asked her interrogator.
Eva was beginning to hate him.
They’d gone over this more than once. They’d covered what she was doing there, what she’d seen and what she’d gotten on film. They’d been through the ransacking of her apartment and the attack at the safehouse. She’d explained how she’d left the film at the printer’s and why she hadn’t brought it in until now.
While she wasn’t sure exactly how long she’d been in there, it was long enough for her boobs to ache from fullness and her attitude to degrade to the level of a petulant child. “I need to take a break. Get some lunch. Feed my daughter. Frankly, I don’t see what else there is to say.”
The man didn’t seem to catch that last part, or if he had,he clearly didn’t care if she felt they were finished or not. “You can take some time for lunch and to care for your baby. I’ll have an officer come by shortly to bring you to an interrogation room.”
Her eyes went wide. “What is this, if not an interrogation room?”
He pushed to a stand, the buttons of his off-white shirt straining against his girth. “A locked interrogation room. For your privacy, of course.”
“Of course,” she repeated, feeling more like a liar and a prisoner with every minute she spent on this property. She stood, her back and hips screaming at the change in position after hours of sitting down.
“You’ll need to stay here until he comes by, Miss Livingston.”
She smiled without pleasure. “Just stretching my legs.”
He stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind him. An audible click had her reaching for the handle, only to find that it was, in fact, just as locked as her new home would be.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned back against the wall and surveyed the scene. A small red light blinked atop the video camera, telling her it was still recording. Somewhere in this building, a murderer was watching the feed, had in fact been watching since the moment she first set foot in this room. She simply hadn’t allowed herself to think about it until now.
Her breaths came more quickly, panic blooming in her bloodstream. She closed her eyes and forced her breathing to slow down. Gavin was also in the building somewhere, along with the men from HERO Force. She wasn’t alone, she wasn’t under arrest, and while she might be in danger, she wasn’t going down without a fight.
A key turned in the lock. “Oh, thank God, I thought you were never going to get me out of here.”
