Cut & Run (A Rachel Scott Adventure)

Chapter 15





Matt could tell from Krapek’s posture that she wasn’t in the mood to waste any time. She gestured for Matt to take a seat, watched as Agent Phipps and Detective Jones did the same, and then started asking questions from behind the room’s wooden desk. “Have you remembered anything?”

Matt glanced around his brother’s office and spotted the mini-fridge that held some of his brother’s favorite local brews. He opened the door, grabbed a NOLA Blonde Ale, and popped the top. He stared into the bottle as if he’d find an answer there—an answer that would convince Krapek that he was innocent in the disappearance of his family.

“Nope. I’ve looked through countless family photo albums and videos. Nothing has worked.”

“Look, Matt. We’re running out of time here, so don’t pull any shit with us. Your kids’ lives could be in jeopardy. We need something to go on.” Krapek gripped the edge of the desk and leaned over so she was within inches of Matt’s face. A few blond tendrils came loose from her ponytail, and she tucked them behind her ear. “Give me something.”

Matt set his beer down on the desk. “I’m doing everything I can. What do you want from me?”

“We want you to tell us the truth. What really happened that night?” Krapek asked.

“I don’t know. I’m trying my best to remember. But I really don’t know.” Matt ran his hands through his dark hair. He didn’t know what it was going to take to get Krapek to believe him. “Look, I want to find my kids just as bad as you do. They’re my kids, for Christ’s sake. What do you want me to say?”

Krapek stared at him like her eyes might be able to crack him open. Matt’s eyes met hers and he didn’t look away.

“Matt, we’d like to come by your office tomorrow and sit down with you. Go through any cases you’ve worked on that may have had any disgruntled clients,” Phipps requested.

“Fine,” he said, with a hint of frustration. “What time?” Matt tilted back the beer bottle, took another swig, and set it down with a loud clank. He could sense that Krapek didn’t approve of his daytime drinking or his attitude, but he didn’t care.

“We’ll meet you there at nine.” Krapek sighed and slid off the side of the desk. “Sorry again for being the bearer of bad news. We’ll see ourselves out.”

Matt stayed in the room and watched the agents and detective leave. He heard them call out their good-byes. He reached in the fridge and grabbed another beer, this time choosing an IPA. He took a long pull from the bottle before setting it down. He knew time was running out. Agent Krapek was out for blood, his blood, and he could possibly be arrested any time now.

The Holy Bible was sitting on the edge of Chris’s desk. Matt picked it up and flipped through the pages. His eyes settled on Psalm 90:1. As he read the passage, an image of a homeless man popped in his head. A homeless man with perfect white teeth.





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