The Heart Has Reasons (45 page)

Then,
something Agent Harris had said echoed through her head once again: That
captives believed their captors were showing them favor stemming from inherent
kindness, when their actions were essentially self-serving.  As she
grappled with these uncomfortable thoughts, an image came, unbidden, into her
mind — the image of Chase feeding the little calico cat and giving it
affection.

No. 
No matter what Jarvis and Harris said, Chase was an inherently good guy. 
She took one last slow, deep inhale, stood, flushed the toilet for effect, and
then opened a faucet and let the water run for a few moments.  Taking one
final deep breath as she gathered her composure, she unlocked the bathroom door
and returned to the kitchen to face her two adversaries.

Jarvis
immediately took up where he’d left off.  “When we accidentally put you
and O’Malley together in that interrogation room, you became very angry.”

She
arched her brows at him.  “We both know that was no accident, but my anger
had nothing to do with Mr. O’Malley.  At the time, I thought he was just
another agent.  I got angry when I realized how late it was.  The
past several days had been hellacious, I was exhausted, I wanted to go home,
and you all kept jerking me around.”

Jarvis
shook his head in negation.  “No one was ‘jerking you around’.  Our
objectives have always coincided with what’s in your best interest.”

By
the time the two FBI agents finally got up to leave, she was once again
mentally exhausted.  At the back door, Jarvis turned to her.  “Ms.
Santos, you have both Doctor Harris’ and my cards if you need to reach
us.  I’m returning to California.”

Heartened
by this pronouncement, she said, “Well, Agent Jarvis, despite everything, it
was nice knowing you.”

“Oh,
I’ll be back,” he promised.

She
made no attempt to disguise the frown that replaced her smile.  “Well,
please don’t hurry on my account.”

CHAPTER
31

The FBI had kept Chase in their holding
facilities for forty-eight hours before moving him to the jail three days
ago.  Forty-five minutes ago, a corrections officer had escorted him here
to the jail’s interview room.

Bolted
to the floor, the table was solid and sturdy, built to withstand abuse. 
Judging by the gouges and dents in its surface, it had already been subjected
to a considerable amount.  Dressed in jail-issued scrubs and slipper
socks, he relished the quiet and solitude and was, therefore, grateful that
Jarvis and Sengupta were late.

When
Kavanaugh eventually learned that he’d agreed to meet with the agents without
him present to field questions he’d tear him a new one.  But his attorney
was out of town for the next two days and, longing for news of Larissa, he’d
chosen not to wait for his return.

The
door opened upon a sharp rap, and the two agents strode into the room, each
bearing a large cup of gourmet coffee.  Jarvis was as usual impeccably
dressed in suit and tie.  Sengupta wore a tailored navy dress and matching
low-heeled pumps. 

“Well
if it isn’t the redoubtable Agent Jarvis.  Hello, Agent Sengupta.”

Sengupta’s
face was a perfect picture of scornful contempt.  “Mr. O’Malley.”

“I
was beginning to think you two’d forgotten about me.”

Jarvis’
smile was feral.  “No such luck, I’m afraid.”

Both
agents took seats across from him and removed the plastic lids from their
cups.  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the small room, making
his mouth water uncontrollably.  Jarvis took several sips, clearly
savoring it.  Chase suspected it was a deliberate ploy to torment him
since the sewage that passed for coffee in the jail was unfit for human
consumption.

“I’ve
just returned from Charleston,” Jarvis said finally.  “Beautiful city,
isn’t it?”

“Never
been there.”

Jarvis’
smile flashed as bright as the midday sun on a knife blade.  “Ms. Santos
and I had many an enlightening conversation.  Sending the vagrant into the
pharmacy for the new inhaler was an astute strategy.  Too bad it wasn’t
successful.”

Chase’s
heart made a sudden hard
thump
against his breastbone.  Larissa had
decided to incriminate him after all.

A
second later, a surge of relief flooded through him as he recognized the
statement for the prevarication it was.  Larissa knew nothing about the
wino.  Still, a knot of fear clenched in his chest.  If she hadn’t
told Jarvis, how the fuck did he know?

Of
course, Larissa only needed to tell him the reason they’d stopped in San
Bernardino.  From there they could’ve canvassed the surrounding pharmacies. 
Upon viewing a security tape of the wino buying the inhaler, it would’ve been a
simple matter to determine the correlation between the two events.

If
the wino identified him, he’d have no plausible excuse for needing an inhaler,
much less for sending someone else in to make the purchase.  In his favor,
though, the wino would prove to be an even less-credible witness than the
punks.  Slouching back in his chair, he linked his hands behind his
neck.  “Jarvis, once again I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

Agent
Sengupta casually crossed a pair of stocking-clad legs, the nylon whispering as
one slim, muscular thigh slid over the other.  “Have you talked to
Cheyenne today?”

“I
haven’t spoken to her in over a week.”

“Shame
on you.  We paid her a visit this morning.  She was both shocked and
horrified to learn you were in jail.  You really shouldn’t keep secrets of
such magnitude from your girlfriend.”

“Since
I’d assumed I’d be out of here before now, I saw no reason to upset her.”

“I
found her resolute belief in your innocence most touching.”  A spark of
cunning glinted in Sengupta’s eyes.  “Of course, when we showed her a
picture of Ms. Santos, her conviction did seem to falter a bit.”

Chase
shrugged.  “Like most models, Cheyenne’s extremely insecure.”

With
Sengupta’s revelation having failed to provoke a reaction, Jarvis changed the
subject.  “Mr. O’Malley, why do you think Ms. Santos’s abductor did what
he did.”

 “I’ve
never had reason to give the matter any thought.”

“I’ve
given it quite a bit.  I imagine her abductor as a man who’d become
accustomed to living life on the edge, and by his own rules.  When he
returned to the tedium and monotony of everyday life, the change would have
been a tough adjustment.  He would have missed the adrenaline rush of
missions, of battle.  Since you were Special Forces, I know you understand
what I’m saying.”

Chase
concentrated on keeping his face expressionless, disconcerted by the FBI
agent’s insight.

“I
can understand how a fundamentally good man might be convinced to do something
foolish like abducting a woman and driving her across country.  When
offered a chance to make some money, a man might think: Why not?  Where
would be the harm?”

Chase
raised his hand in a deprecative gesture.  “Only an idiot would think such
a thing.”  And he’d
definitely
been an idiot.

Jarvis
made a minute adjustment to the shirt cuffs that extended a precise one-half
inch beyond the sleeves of his navy pinstriped suit jacket.  “It would be
even easier for him to make an unsound decision if he believed he were merely
returning a runaway wife to her husband and children.  You have to admit
the fake family portrait was convincing.”

He
pasted on a puzzled expression.  “Family portrait?”

“You
know exactly what I’m talking about.  You made an unfortunate, but very
serious mistake.  In your favor, though, you made no ransom demands, and
you never deliberately harmed Ms. Santos.  Unlike Agent Sengupta, I’d hate
to see you spend the rest of your life in prison.  Ms. Santos might be
willing to plead with the judge for leniency on your behalf, and I’m sure your
attorney could plea bargain a sentence you could live with.  With this
being your first offence, and with time off for good behavior, you could end up
doing as little as five years.”

“I’m
not pleading guilty to something I didn’t do.”

“If
you continue with this stubborn insistence of innocence, a jury will most
certainly find you guilty.  You’re only thirty-two years old—”

“Thirty-
three
,”
Sengupta corrected.

“Ah,
yes.  Spending your birthday in jail must really suck.  Imagine
celebrating the next twenty-five while incarcerated.”

Refusing
to be provoked, Chase gazed back placidly.

“You
know, O’Malley, I have to admit to a grudging admiration for you.  To
kidnap a woman, and then have that very same woman to protect you.  It
boggles the mind.”

“I’ve
never abducted
anyone
.  At least, not in the United States, and not
without a direct order to do so.”

Jarvis
shrugged.  “As you wish.  We’ll soon see how much longer Ms. Santos is
willing to spend in jail before coming to her senses.”

Chase
abruptly straightened in his chair. 
“
You had her
arrested?”

“Three
days ago.”

Oh,
Jesus
.  “On what
charge?”

“Obstruction
of justice.”

“
What
the fuck is wrong with you, Jarvis?
” he shouted.  “
Have you’re
forgotten she’s the victim?
”

“It
was only with the greatest of reluctance that I did so.”

“I
talked him into it.”  Sengupta made the pronouncement as though it were
something of which she was proud.

Chase
leveled his outraged glare on her.  “You fucking cold-hearted bitch.”

Although
Sengupta appeared thoroughly pleased with herself, Jarvis straightened in his
chair, his expression dire.  “It would behoove you not to insult a federal
agent.”

Sengupta’s
lips curled into a smile of unmistakable contempt.  “I’ve no idea what you
did to persuade Ms. Santos to lie for you — and honestly I don’t
want
to
know — but I doubt it’ll take her long to realize the absurdity of continuing
to protect you.  Some incarcerated women can be quite vicious, and I’m
sure Ms. Santos is finding jail quite … bloodcurdling.”

Sengupta
obviously didn’t know Larissa very well.  Nevertheless, Chase took a deep
breath and flexed his fingers under the table, until the urge to throttle both
agents had passed.  “Yet, that didn’t stop you two from sending her
there.”

She
shrugged.  “Lying to federal agents is a crime.”

The
idea of Larissa in jail was nearly more than he could bear.  Three
days!  If only he’d known sooner.  As soon as the agents left, he’d
call Kavanaugh and have him arrange her bail. 

When
a cell phone rang, each agent looked expectantly at the other.  Sengupta
shook her head.  “Mine’s set on vibe.”  Jarvis produced a phone and
glanced at the caller ID.  “Agent Harris.”  Flipping it open, he said
simply, “Jarvis.”

Holding
the phone to his ear, Jarvis’ sudden grin gave him the unsettling appearance of
a grizzly inadvertently awakened from his midwinter hibernation.  “And Ms.
Santos has agreed to implicate him?  Then get her full statement
now
,
before she does an about-face.  As soon as she’s signed it, go ahead and
cut her free.  And Harris?  Thanks for making my day.”

He
snapped the phone shut.  “Mr. O’Malley, as I’m sure you’ve gathered, Ms.
Santos has agreed to talk.”  He paused dramatically, staring at Chase like
a serpent hoping to mesmerize a rodent.  “Agents from the Charleston field
office are preparing to take her statement, so this is your last chance to make
a plea and avoid spending the rest of your life in prison.”

“I’m
not pleading to something I didn’t do.”

“You’re
being very foolish.  Once she signs her statement, it’ll be too
late.  I’m offering you a lifeline.  Grab it.”

Steeling
his face into impassivity, Chase leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms
across his chest.

“Very
well.  I hope you won’t harbor any animosity toward Ms. Santos.  She
stuck to her story as long as she could, but apparently three nights in jail
were enough to convince her of the folly of continuing to protect you.” 
He paused for a moment.  “This is your last chance.”

Why
the fuck had he agreed to meet with them without Kavanaugh beside him.  He
couldn’t seem to stop proving what an idiot he was.

“Mr.
O’Malley?”

Chase
scowled openly.  “You have my answer.”

“Well,
then, I don’t guess we’ll see each other again until the trial.”  Two
chairs scraped back as both agents got to their feet.  Jarvis raised one
huge hand to sketch a mocking salute.  “So long, and good luck to
you.  You’re going to need it.”  Sengupta tossed him one last
derisive smile as the door closed behind them.

Chase
slumped back in his chair.  Apprehension twisted his gut into knots, and
it felt as if a five-hundred-pound weight were sitting square on his
chest.  Maybe he should've gone for the plea bargain but, without Kavanaugh
here to advise him, he wasn’t about to admit to anything.