Chapter Three

 

DAVIS

 

My knuckles hurt where I'd pounded them into the steel table-top.

"I don't care what the hell Ryan Beauchamp has to say on the subject." I pull my hand back off the table and step back away from the table, against the dimly-illuminated wall. "Did I give you the impression of caring one god damned bit about his rights? You put the screws on him!"

Danny didn't look like he was going to enjoy 'putting the screws' to Beauchamp. He was a tough nut to crack, for sure. But then again, he would have been, wouldn't he? I imagined his face, a perfect representation after having seen his picture thousands of times.

He was handsome, even very handsome. He didn't look like a drug dealer, nor like a gun runner. He looked like someone who would fit in better at a magazine photo shoot, than a shoot-out.

If the description made him sound small, it would be a mistake. She'd seen plenty of hard agents come back from getting close to the guy. From getting too close, and letting him figure out who they were.

Spider was the first one to get through for real, the first one to positively I.D. Beauchamp as the ring-leader of the Raven's Call Motorcycle Club. The first one to find positive proof of what they were doing.

Ask anyone, and they'll tell you what the Raven's Call were doing. They didn't try to hide it, or at least not very well. Not well enough to stop the rumors.

But then you actually try to prove it, and the stories dry up. No proof from anyone. The members swore up and down it was just a group of friends who gathered for drinks in the bar.

Well, thanks to a man on the inside, they finally had the proof they needed, and they finally had the big man. The Ravens weren't the biggest gang in the country, though.

Hell, they weren't even the biggest gang in Arizona. But their spread had been as bloody as it had been fast, and there was no way that Ryan Beauchamp was going to ever get out of jail for it.

I had spent two years tracking them, since that handsome son of a bitch drove his big Indian into town. And now that I had him, he was going to squirm.

I smiled, my face hidden in the dim overhead light. He'd be worried right now about what was going to happen to his men. More than that, he'd be worrying about what was going to happen to him.

Danny seemed to think that he wasn't going to crack, but they always crack. And Beauchamp wasn't even big fish. He was just bait, and that meant that she was prepared to offer him quite a deal in exchange for his cooperation.

There was no way he'd get such a good deal, not with anyone else. Immunity up and down, for anything he'd done and anything he was about to do.

All he had to do was kiss the ring of Government, and start filing reports like a good boy. Maybe meet with some people who the A.T.F. had their eyes on.

Which begged the question, I thought as Danny slipped back into the metal chair opposite Beauchamp's seat at the table: why was he holding out so much?

He sat back against his chair, a chair that I knew was more than just uncomfortable, and looked as if he were untouchable. I could feel myself burning at that expression. That smug son of a bitch was going to get that look wiped off his face, and soon.

When Danny was done with him, then it would be my turn. But first, Danny had to convince him that he was neck-deep in shit, and that there was no way out. If he was still sitting there, smug and with that punchably-handsome face, then her part wasn't going to work.

I slipped out of the observation room while Danny started to work, making sure that the observation camera pointed the wrong way. Some of these bastards got what they deserved to get in those interrogation rooms, and it's all I can do to make sure I do my part to see they get it.

I poured myself a coffee and tried to calm my nerves. It wasn't as if Beauchamp was superman. He was a man just like anyone else.

Not exactly like any man, of course. Most men couldn't claim to be as good looking. Most men weren't killers. Most men didn't control a third of the gun running going through Tucson.

By some more recent estimates, more than that.

But even still, this wasn't a situation where his boys were going to come by. Especially not with Spider on damage control.

He was a good agent, and he'd follow his instructions well, like he always did. This time his instructions were simple: keep them quiet, keep them from causing too much trouble, and wait for further instructions.

I tapped my fingers on the desk I'd set up against the wall, waited for Danny to come out with the good news. When he didn't come, I poured a cup of cold water and headed back into the observation room.

The water was crisp and clean and cold. Nothing like the summer Tucson air. I almost felt bad about having turned down that drink in the bar. The cold would have been great.

And then again, that kiss—I shook my head. He was a crook, a killer, and a smuggler. There was nothing there, and I was smarter than that. I knew better.

Which made it all that much more frustrating when I looked through the one-way glass at his smug smirk, the way that he leaned back and the way his perfect muscles bunched up and loosed as he leaned back.

He sat in that God damned, pointy, angular, uncomfortable metal chair like it was his favorite hammock. I could feel my lips twisting into a sneer, Danny turning back to face the mirror and giving a shrug.

"Hey, is that hot bitch back there watching me?"

Danny turned back towards Beauchamp. I could already see that he'd put his hard face back on, as if any minute he might lose his temper and put a fist through Beauchamp's teeth.

"The only hot bitch you're going to be seeing is yourself, when you look in a mirror on Cell Block D. They're going to love you. Those boys, they can't get enough of a pretty boy like you."

"She's there, ain't she?"

"You worry about me, hot shot. I'm your problem."

Ryan made a kissy-face toward the window. "Maybe I'll talk when you send in that fine-ass redhead."

I didn't like the flare of excitement, the flash of imagination in my head at several ideas I could think of that would get him to talk.

There was no way that would happen. He was deluding himself. Fantasies or no, I wasn't going to go for it, and that was that.

That didn't make the fantasies less tempting. I pursed my lips and settled into the seat. Danny was just getting to work, and though he wasn't exactly the greatest at playing bad cop, he would learn.

We all had to learn how to be the bad guy some day. That's what being a cop was all about. If he couldn't learn how to turn on the dangerous, then there was no way he was going to cut it.

He had to provide a good example for Beauchamp, as well, if Ryan was going to work with us.

 Not that Ryan Beauchamp needed a cop to teach him how to intimidate someone.