HUNTER
Knightraisedhiseyebrows when he admitted me into the facility, no doubt because of my bloodshot eyes from a sleepless night. How could I sleep when we were closer than ever to solving the Handkerchief Murders? Closer to finding out where Petra’s remains were so I could finally bring my wife home to rest, but thoughts of my wife weren’t the only thing that’d kept me awake. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the boy hiding under the bed, his soft face drowning in tears.
During the night, I’d kept running the exchange with our alleged killer through my mind, coming up with and discarding theories of how he’d gained access to Webb’s car. Our killer wasn’t stupid, and that had been a stupid move. I was certain that we hadn’t solved this case, but the boy was definitely the key.
“Rough night?” Knight asked as we stepped into the elevator.
“Yeah. Just trying to figure things out.”
“Join the club.”
The doors closed, and the elevator went up.
“Still no word from him or about him?”
“None. It’s like he appeared out of thin air. Agent Ellis, who’s responsible for his personal needs, reported that even taking a shower seemed to be a struggle for him.” He shook his head. “I don’t like this, Neely. I don’t like this at all.”
“I know you want a cut and dried case, Knight, but it doesn’t seem like you’re going to get your wish after all.”
“No kidding.” He checked his watch. “You’re just in time for a meeting with the governor and the attorney general.”
“You’re letting me sit in on your meeting?”
“Special request by the governor himself.”
Color me surprised. That was why we were going up instead of down to the basement. I’d assumed they’d changed the location of our prisoner.
On the second floor, I nodded a greeting to various agents. In the last month, I’d gotten to know everyone by name, but I hadn’t talked to a single agent. From day one, it’d been clear that I was there to liaise with Knight. His staff was off-limits and didn’t answer to me. He was the special agent in charge of the task force. And I was only along for the ride.
Knight and I went to his office. He offered me a cinnamon sugar donut. Although I’d only had coffee, I declined. My stomach was in knots as it was. Food was the least of my worries with the recent development in our case.
“Relax, Neely. You look like the one on trial here.”
But I couldn’t relax. I didn’t want to attend some bureaucratic meeting when the answers I’d been seeking all these years rested just a few floors below us.
After demolishing a donut, Knight wiped his hands and powered up his computer. His office was bare. A desk, a chair, a computer, but no personal effects. Nothing that pointed to a family life. Smart move. Men like us shouldn’t have families or let them interfere with our work. When shit hit the fan, they were the ones who got crapped on.
“Special Agent Knight,” the governor’s voice came over the speaker. “Anything new?”
“Not at the moment, sir. Detective Neely is here, as requested.” Knight beckoned to me, and I stood behind him, leaning against the wall.
“Governor Roffe,” I said. “I’m here to serve, sir.”
The man was in his office from the looks of it, the Star-Spangled Banner visible in the background. Next to it was a smaller Michigan state flag.
“Glad to have you on board, Detective Neely,” Governor Roffe said. “Because of your assistance, we’ve come this far in the case, and we’re going to need you now more than ever to sort this out, or whatever the hell kind of act Knight says our prisoner is engaged in.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
“I just got off the phone with the attorney general, who unfortunately won’t be able to join us, but we’ve discussed the issue at great lengths and have agreed that we must do whatever it takes to get to the truth.”
“I agree, sir.”
“Both Special Agent Knight and I aren’t familiar with the condition of our prisoner, but he tells me you have some idea. Care to enlighten me, Detective Neely?”
I tugged at my tie. Never in a million years could I have dreamed up this scenario—of talking about my son’s lifestyle with the governor. The only person I’d told was Barney, and even then, it only was about how weird I found it. Of course, I couldn’t tell my grown son that. I hang on to the threads of our relationship as it was. One wrong word and he would snap them off altogether.
“Umm, it’s called age play, sir.” I cleared my throat. “It comes under the Dom/sub elements of BDSM. From what I observed yesterday, he seems to be a little, someone who finds a safe place in being a young child.”