She glared, but I saw the corner of her mouth twitch. Progress.
Inside the room, the suspect sat with his head bowed. Young, maybe mid-twenties, with cartel ink up both arms and the kind of smirk that made me itch to knock it off his face.
“Name’s Diego Vega,” Julia said. “Colombian passport, fake ID, fake everything. Refuses to talk. So I’m sure that’s not his real name.”
I stepped closer to the glass. “Mind if I try?”
Her brow lifted. “You’re not trained for interrogations.”
I smirked. “Not the kind you do.”
She rolled her eyes but opened the door anyway. “Fine. But I swear, if you break any rules—”
“Detective,” I said, walking past her, “you’ve known me since I was eight. When have I ever broken rules?”
“Every day of your life.”
I grinned. “Fair point.”
The door closed behind me, and the air felt heavier. I pulled out the chair across from Diego and sat, folding my hands on the table.
“Long night, huh?” I said.
He looked up, eyes dark and flat. “You are not police.”
“Nope. But I’m the guy who dragged your ass out of the woods.”
He gave a dry laugh. “Then I thank you.”
“Don’t. I don’t do rescues for free.”
That got his attention. He studied me a moment, then leaned forward. “What do you want?”
“Names. Why are you here? Who sent you?”
He looked away. “You will not stop them. Someonehigher up approved the location. You should be looking into your government.”
I stood, walked around the table, and leaned close enough that he could smell the gunpowder still on my shirt. “Maybe not. But I can make sure they stop breathing first.”
His jaw flexed. “They are already here.”
“Who?”
He hesitated, and I saw the flicker of fear in his eyes before he masked it. “The man who owns Copper Ridge Mine. He works for them now.”
I frowned. “Copper Ridge? That mine’s been shut down for years.”
“Not anymore,” he whispered. “Tunnels. Hidden. Perfect for cooking.”
Julia’s voice came over the intercom, tight with shock. “Hawk, get out of there.”
I turned just as Diego’s body convulsed. Foam at the mouth. His eyes rolled back.
“Son of a—” I grabbed him, but it was too late. He was gone.
Julia burst into the room, gun drawn, scanning for threats. “What happened?”
“Cyanide capsule,” I said, grim. “Someone made sure he wouldn’t talk. They all have to carry a tablet, I suspect.”
