“Why did she run away from all of you?” Jolene asked.
Irritation smacked me, and I shoved it away. “She didn't run away. She was camping. That's all I have for you, but I thought you should at least print the truth.” I clicked off before she could ask any more questions and pulled into the nicely shoveled parking area of Aiden's wide building.
Shaking off Jolene cooties, I jumped out of the truck and hurried across the salted ground to the front door, stepping inside. Saber sat behind the reception desk with stacks of file folders around him. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Getting organized,” he said. “We need to hire somebody for the front desk, but I figured I’d put all our cases in the appropriate file cabinets. These just arrived, so I unpacked them.”
“Great,” I praised. “Did your guy get here yet?”
“Yep, he’s here. He’s in the interrogation room with Aiden. I suppose you want to watch?”
Did I ever. “Yep.” I didn't lie and say that Aiden had said it was okay. If Saber assumed, then that was on him.
“Come on this way.” He opened a divider, and I walked behind the reception desk. “To the left,” he said, pointing to a door he opened with a keypad. I followed him down a long hallway and then turned left into a small room. Saber flipped on the light. The room was vacant, and a one-way mirror looked into a rather stark-appearing interrogation room with dark walls and no windows. The lake was on the other side of the building, so I wasn't surprised.
Aiden sat with his back to me, and a profusely sweating man sat across from him.
“Thanks, Saber,” I said.
“Sure thing. I think there’s coffee in the kitchen if you want any.” With that, Saber turned and loped away, but I didn’t want to miss anything. Even though coffee sounded really good.
Aiden looked relaxed, at least from behind, and the man in front of him appeared to be maybe around six feet tall with short, gray hair, a goatee a few shades darker, and blue eyes behind rimmed eyeglasses. Aiden clicked the button on the table, and twin cameras lit up on either side of the room.
Anticipation chilled my veins. I hadn’t missed anything. They’d just started.
“State your name for the record,” Aiden said, his tone rather congenial for him.
“Um...um...my name is Milton Sandpaper,” the guy said, wiping his brow. He had to be in his mid-fifties.
Aiden reached for a pad of paper and a pen. “Where do you work?”
“Um... I work at the JAG Legal Center and School in Charlottesville, Virginia. Why am I here?” It seemed like he’d tried to drum up some outrage, but he was failing miserably.
“I think you know why you're here,” Aiden said, kicking back. “How about you tell me everything I want to know, and I’ll let you go without arresting you?”
Milton fidgeted. “Um, I really don’t have any idea why I'm here.”
“Alrighty, we’ll play it that way, then.” Aiden pulled a file folder to his side and flipped it open. “About a month ago, you conducted some pretty in-depth research into a case involving Nick Basanelli as a JAG officer regarding the theft of missiles. Do you remember that?”
“Vaguely.” Milton’s gaze darted away and then back. “I do a lot of research, man. That’s my job.”
Aiden’s head lifted, and he must’ve given Milton his badass and slightly pissed expression because Milton paled. “Not to this degree. I’ve obtained a warrant for your email and cell phone records, and I spent the day going through those. You call several numbers a lot, including one Mistress Dominica.”
Milton turned beet-red. “That...well, that’s none of your business,” he sputtered.
“Probably not, but I did find it interesting. Do you meet up once in a while, or does she just spank you metaphorically over the phone?”
Milton coughed. “That’s, ah, that’s irrelevant.”
Aiden waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it, Milton. Lots of folks like to be spanked. In fact, my adorable and sneaky girlfriend keeps putting herself in situations where she’s looking to find herself tossed over my knee.” He glanced over his shoulder very quickly, his eyes a blazing blue.
My butt hitched. Or tingled. Or maybe both. But the damage was done, and here I was. Perhaps I should’ve asked to sit in on the interview. Hopefully, I didn’t get Saber in trouble. Probably not. Aiden knew me.
He turned back to Milton. “There were several other often-repeated numbers in your records. One belonging to your brother, one for some friends you apparently golf with once in a while, and then there was an unknown number I couldn’t track, which means it’s a burner. You know what, Milton?”
“What?” Milton stuttered.
“I’d really like to know who was on the other end of that burner phone.”
