Pledging to Die (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 11) (50 page)

Just in case…

“Can you have him meet us here tomorrow morning? We’ll conduct the interview then.”

He nodded.

“Oh, and get your deputy in here too. He was sleeping with one of the dead women, and he was in the frat. He’s going to have to go through the interview process, so I can decide who’s side he’s on.”

“I want to be there when you do it.”

She laughed, and when he didn't, Elizabeth stopped. “Oh, you’re actually being serious. I thought you were trying to be damn funny.”

“I was very serious. He’s my man, and I want to make sure the FBI doesn’t roll over him. Let’s face it. You need to find someone to pin this too, and I don’t want it to be an innocent man.”

She crossed her arms over her body, glaring at him. “Are you insinuating that if we can’t close this, we’ll get ourselves a scapegoat?”

He shrugged. “An ounce of prevention…”

Elizabeth tried to remain completely calm. She wouldn’t let him piss her off more than she already was. It wasn’t happening.  In fact, she might be able to swing this so it would work to their advantage. If they had a friendly face in the interrogation room, the deputy might be a little more forthcoming.

“Okay, but on one condition.”

“Yes?”

“You let me do all the talking.”

“You aren’t going to make him watch some bad porn and pop one off in a cup, are you?”

She grinned, her icy blue eyes sparkling. “Not likely, but one never knows. If you think that’s bad, you should see what we do to haze the newbies on our team,” she stated.

He stared at her. “Haze? That word scares me, especially since I’m around a college campus all the time.”

“Hell yeah, and it should. If I get really mad, then I make the newbies hold the cup. Talk about painful for both parties.”

The man looked horrified.

“Are you serious?”

Elizabeth didn't dignify that with an answer. She was still pissed over the little fact that the sheriff had withheld information. If this went bad, or the deputy was somehow involved, it wasn’t going to end well for either of them.

She could guarantee it.

She headed out of the room and to holding. Ethan couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore, and even Callen joined in.

“You’re sick,” Blackhawk stated.

She winked at both of them. “Funny, people keep telling me that. I’m beginning to think there may be some fact behind that statement.”

They shook their heads.

“Now, let’s crucify a judge and dickwad frat boy.”

 

This was going to be fun.

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

 

Callen got the easier of the interviews, and he knew it. When he headed in to talk to Sutton Pontiac, the frat boy was already in the mood to sing like a canary.

From the look on his face, it appeared that he’d sell his kidneys to get out of this mess, which was ironic since they had a dead victim missing hers.

This was going to be a walk in the park, and he knew it. So, instead of wasting time, he sat and got down to business.

“You’ve had your rights read to you, correct?”

The man nodded. That one simple sentence was all it took to open the floodgates. The man began spouting just about anything to get off the hook.

“I can give you all I have. I’ll testify against all of them, and no matter what they say, this wasn’t my idea!”

Callen let the man ramble as his tablet recorded the conversation. “By all, what are we talking about?” he asked.

“There’s a book. Nels keeps a running tally of all the women who get taken down into the basement. It’s in one of their dresser drawers.”

Callen pretended to make notes. They already had that thanks to Johanna’s exploration. Still, he didn't stop him, since he didn't want to deter the man’s willingness to bear his soul. He might give them something they didn't know.

“There were drugs. They came from Hervey Westly. He’s gets terrible anxiety attacks, and when he has one, he pops a Xanax.”

Again, that was old news.

“Not good enough, Sutton.”

What he wanted to know was if they were killing the women. So, he asked.

The man shook his head wildly.

“No! We had sex with them, and then they were sent on their way. The only thing we’re guilty of is drugging those women.”

“And rape.”

He stared across the table at Callen. “They came downstairs willingly. We never forced them. All of those women walked down there, got dressed after, and left on their own. We didn't hold them at gunpoint.”

Callen pulled out a photo of Page Pinel. Doctor Leonard found the infected injection site on her scalp, and it was still a mystery since her tox was clean.

“How about this girl? Did she visit you in the basement?” he asked.

Sutton studied the photo. “Yes, she did.”

“When?”

The man closed his eyes and tried to think. “I’d say about two weeks ago. She came down, we partied, and then she left.”

So, Page had been down there, but she escaped the killer right after the party. That was curious.

“I swear! We just wanted to have fun.”

Callen wanted to slap the shit out of the man. Fun didn't include sedating and raping women.

“Then why the drugs, Sutton? If these girls were all willing participants, then why did you feel the need to shoot them up?”

He paused.

“Now’s not the time to clam up, son. If you want to survive this and not end up on death row, waiting for the chair, here’s where you talk.”

“I’ll testify against all of them!”

Callen knew he’d likely have to, and that was why he wasn’t being tough on him. What was coming would be far worse. He was going to do time in jail, whether he liked it or not.

“When they got down there, it was a way to mellow them out. We had one girl who was nervous, and Hervey offered her one of his Xanax. She had the best time. It gave Arman an idea. Since it intensified her orgasms, why not give it to all the women who made it down there with us. We did it for them.”

Callen was glad he had this interview. If Elizabeth heard the man justifying the drugs and rape, she would have skinned him alive and laughed while doing it.

“We didn't want to hurt them. I swear that they came onto us and begged to be down there. I’m not lying.”

The sad thing was, Callen was well aware. He’d already decided that Catherine and Charlie would never be allowed to join a sorority.

It was one hot mess.

“Let’s discuss the membership to this little club,” Callen stated. “I want the names of every other frat brother who joined in on the fun this year.”

“No one else has! I swear. It’s been the five of us all season, and that’s it. We were going to initiate Brody Seaton as the next person. I suggested it to Arman because I liked him. He’s a good guy. You can tell.”

Callen pulled out a picture of their agent’s wounds.

Sutton cringed. “That’s why I wanted to help save them. They would have raped her, since they found her snooping around in our rooms. I didn't think she deserved that, and Brody really had it bad for her. It was like he was crushing on her or something.”

Callen pulled out two more pictures. It was of the two agents dressed in their official work attire, standing in front of the FBI emblem.

“Oh, shit!”

Callen knew the man got it.

He was three days past screwed, right into boned. He was going to be some inmate’s prison bitch.

“Feds?”

Callen nodded. It was obvious that Sutton had been knocked out before Arman got it out of Broderick.

“I didn't touch them. I really didn't.”

Callen stared across the table and into his eyes. “I’m aware, or you’d have Elizabeth Blackhawk in here riding your ass. You got me because I’m a lot calmer.”

The man nodded.

“Now, are you one hundred percent sure that there was no one else joining in? We don’t want any surprises when we search your frat.”

Sutton shook his head. “I swear! Arman didn't like to share the women. Last year, it got out of hand.”

Callen paused. “Last year?”

That made him want to be sick.

Sutton nodded. “Arman started this game his freshman year. There was a similar one before he got here. This isn’t new to Beta Phi Ti. In the last two years, we initiated two new guys. Garrick Tran just came on, and Arman’s pet, Nels, is relatively new too.”

Callen made notes.

If there were more men, maybe this wasn’t someone using the frat as cover, but trying to hurt them. After all, they’d made them look guilty as sin.

“Have you seen any of the graduated brothers around the parties?”

He shook his head. “No, I didn't. The old members rarely return. They move on.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded.

Suddenly, the tears came. “I swear.”

Sutton began bawling like a baby as he rested his head on the table. “I’m so screwed. How did this happen?” he mumbled.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it had something to do with drugging and raping women. You really couldn’t have believed this was going to end well, Mr. Pontiac. You had to be aware.”

“I never thought…”

He sobbed harder.

 

There was no sympathy. These boys screwed up, and in a huge way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Down the hall, Elizabeth and Ethan were behind the one way glass, staring at the man who was going to try and weasel his way out of this shitload of trouble.

He was sitting there with his father, and they were attempting to look intimidating. The man was whispering, giving his son pointers, and the idiot boy was staring at him like he was a god among men.

If anything, it was laughable.

“If our kids ever get into trouble, Ethan, I need you to promise me that you’re not going to pull the ‘Director of the FBI’ card and make some cop’s life miserable.”

He laughed.

“Ethan!”

“What? They’re my kids. I went to jail for my brother. If you think I won’t do just about anything for our children, then you’re crazy.”

She gave him the look. “We’re screwed.”

“So let’s have more and throw it all into the game.”

Closing her mouth, Elizabeth pointed at the door. There was no point arguing the baby card. She was standing her ground. “Come on, Cowboy. Let’s go break him.”

Together, they headed in.

Once inside, she made the introductions. “Mr. Smithfield, I’m Director Elizabeth Whitefox-Blackhawk, and this is Director Ethan Blackhawk. We’re the lead investigators on your son’s case.”

The man didn't look impressed. “You can release him right now. We’re going home.”

When he stood, Elizabeth pointed at the chairs. “Sit a spell, Judge. We’re just starting this conversation, and by the end, your son is leaving, but to prison—not home. His freedom days are long gone. He’s made sure of that.”

Arman glanced nervously at his dad.

“Don’t worry, Arman. Say nothing to them, and you’ll be leaving to come home with me. Trust your dad.”

She laughed. “Yeah, you’re delusional. Your son is up for two counts of physical assault on Federal agents, attempted homicide, multiple counts of rape, abduction, and a few other zingers I’ve thrown in there to sweeten the pot. By our count, he’s doing life, if not getting the chair. He’s an adult, and he’s going to do the time.”

“What? He’s not going to jail.”

It sounded like the judge actually believed that.

It was laughable.

Ethan crossed his arms. “On top of all that, he also drugged women and that made them helpless to defend themselves against a serial killer. We’re tagging him with accessory.”

The judge arrogantly began laughing. “You’re going to have a damn hard time proving that in court,” he stated. “I know, because I’m going to make sure that this case is tried here. My son won’t do jail time. I can guarantee it.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “See, that’s the problem. I’m betting all his life you’ve sheltered him, letting Arman do whatever he wanted, and now it’s haunting him. We’re not talking about stealing a car for a joyride,” she stated, knowing that was Ethan and Callen’s favorite past time as kids. “We’re talking about rape, accessory to murder, assault, and taking women against their will.”

“They wanted it!” Arman blurted. “I didn't force anyone. If anything, I made it so much better.”

Immediately, the judge hushed him.

“My son is going home. When you bring him in front of the magistrate, I’ll get him remanded into my custody.”

“Oh, and I’m sure he’ll be on a plane to some third world kingdom you’ve set up. Yeah, sorry, but that’s not happening.”

“What proof do you have?” Judge Smithfield asked. “You seem so sure of yourself, and no offense, but I’ve seen lesser women cave in my courtroom.”

She laughed. “Oh, is that supposed to scare me? Do you think I’m afraid of some arrogant district court judge who raised a rapist? You’re out of your mind. I eat lowlifes like you and your son for breakfast.”

She pulled out her tablet and hit play. “Feel free to sample our audio evidence.”

As it played, Arman’s eyes got big, and he began shaking in his chair.

“Oh look. They used their names. It’s funny. Arman, Nels, Sutton, Hervey, and Garrick are so uncommon. I’m betting a real judge would believe that’s you, but in case you try that route, let me advise you that he’s been read his rights, and this interrogation is being recorded. We’ll compare voices for the big day.”

It wiped some of the smarminess off the judge’s face.

Elizabeth could see the worry as the recording continued. Before long, they were at her favorite part.

“That’s where he admits to drugging women as he’s injecting my agent with a near lethal dose of Xanax. Hear that, Arman? That’s her begging you not to do it. That’s also her weeping because your goons are beating on her partner.”

The man’s eyes filled with tears, but for all the wrong reasons. He was scared, and not because he’d been wrong, but because he was caught.

What a jackwagon.

The judge listened. “Really, if I got this in my court, I’d likely toss it out. You’ll need a little more. I’m sure the band of lawyers I’m hiring will advise these boys properly.”

She laughed.

“Callen, come in,” she said, pointing at the one way glass. She could feel his eyes on her, and she knew he was done with his investigation.

When the door opened, he strolled in with a cup of coffee. “It’s done.”

“What’s this?” the judge asked. “Did you round up all the Indians in the area for a cop convention?”

Elizabeth smiled, ignoring the use of the word. While she hated it, she loved that the man’s son was three days past screwed. There was no way he was getting out of this one.

“Actually, this is Director Callen Whitefox. He was just interviewing one of the fellow frat boys. Weren’t you?”

“Yeah, it seems that Sutton has opted to testify against you, and I’m pretty sure when word travels to the other rooms, they will too. Wait, I’m sorry. Word already travelled. It looks like I have three men who aren’t willing to hang for you,” stated Callen.

Elizabeth grinned. “You might want to keep those attorney’s for this genius. He’s dug himself one hell of a grave, and now he’s going to lie in it. You know…when he gets the chair.”

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