“The kind that works,” Red shot back, opening a file folder. “Sorry, I don’t know what Dante puts in those things. I’m a little worried that he carries them around. Have you had any problems with serial killers in the last couple of weeks?”
Becca simply stared.
“Too soon? Okay, let’s get down to it. My name is Erin and I’ll be your interrogator this evening.”
She was so not interested in sarcasm. “I’d like to see a badge.”
“I bet you would. We made damn sure you wouldn’t.” Erin sat back. “Would it surprise you to know that there’s a warrant out for your arrest? This is a copy of the legal paperwork that would have been shoved through court in order to quickly push your extradition to the States through.”
She looked down at the papers. They didn’t make a lick of sense. Why would she be arrested? And why would anyone want to extradite her? She wasn’t a lawyer, but it looked like she might need one. Lawyer Larry would come in handy now. “I’d like a lawyer. I don’t think I should say anything else until I talk to one.”
“I’m sure we’ll get you an attorney if it comes down to that,” she said. “Unfortunately, we’re in Canada and I don’t know a ton of people in Canada, so we’re going to have to work on it. Next time you get in trouble do it in Dallas. Or London. Or New York. Mostly any place but Canada.”
“Who are you?” It was obvious this woman wasn’t with the police.
“I told you. I’m Erin. I work with a group of former military and intelligence officers who investigate bad shit that happens. Sometimes we work with the Agency. Sometimes the Agency sucks and we find ourselves on opposite sides, like tonight.” She slid a photograph across the table. “Have you ever met this man?”
She shook her head, but not in response to the picture. She didn’t bother to look at it. “I want to leave this place. I want to make a phone call and have my boyfriend pick me up. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I want no part of it.”
“I’m sorry for the way we had to bring you in, but if we’d left you there, you would be in police custody right now. That warrant is real. We barely managed to get you out in time. There’s nothing on the news yet, but I imagine they’ll have to say something at the foundation tomorrow to cover up why you’re gone. I’m interested to see how they play that one, but we’ve had to pull our guys out so we’ll hear secondhand.”
“Your guys?” She was confused. More than confused. “Look, if you aren’t the cops, then I want out of here. I want my phone.”
“You’re not going to listen to me, are you? I told them it wouldn’t work and we would have to bring the big guns in, but do guys ever listen? Nope. Sometimes I think they’ll try anything besides a woman’s very reasonable suggestion just to try to prove me wrong.” Erin’s lips curled up. “Yeah, I bet you will, baby.”
That was when she realized Erin was wearing a small device in her left ear.
Someone was listening in. A cold chill went across her skin as she glanced around the room. The small room was sparse, with only the table and three chairs to decorate it. Except for the cameras mounted in either corner.
What the hell was going on?
Was Reasor somewhere in this cabin? Was he the one who’d decided to play this game with her? She hadn’t woken up the way she had the last time. Whatever he’d given her that night had produced the worst dreams of her life, dreams of never-ending pain and torture. She could still remember the day. Unless…
“How long was I out?” Could she trust anything this woman would say?
“A couple of hours.”
“What day is it?”
Erin frowned and managed to look slightly concerned. “It’s the same day, Dr. Walsh. It’s eleven o’clock on Friday. You didn’t lose a day.”
Then it had to have been a different sedative since the one Reasor had given her the first time had caused her to forget a whole day. One minute she’d been walking in the cafeteria and then…then she’d had her time in hell.
“All right. Let’s start with the basics,” Erin said. “Would you like to explain how a little over one million dollars was funneled from your research accounts at Huisman to your charitable organization?”
The bottom threatened to drop out of her stomach. “What?”
Erin flipped a folder around and pointed to what appeared to be copies of bank drafts and a report. She recognized the name. Phoebe Murdoch. Owen’s Phoebe. How had they gotten that report? Were they watching Owen, too? Had she gotten him involved in her problems?
“This is a report from a forensic accountant,” Erin explained. “She managed to track the funds from the account at Huisman to a Swiss account. Naturally we can’t know who owns that account, but I find it interesting that the money was then transferred from that account into the account your charity uses in the form of several large donations.”
She was going to be sick.
“Take a deep breath,” Erin said. “If you go, I’m sure to go, and I’ve done my vomit-time today.”
She barely managed to keep it down. “I didn’t take any money. I sure as hell wouldn’t take money from my research account. I need that money.”
“Everyone needs money.”
“I don’t. I have what I need. I don’t need to steal.”
Erin’s shoulders moved up and down in a negligent shrug. “As it so happens, I agree with your assessment. This is a setup. It’s been going on for over a year. Do you have any enemies?”
It was a harsh word, and not one she’d ever thought applied to her. “Enemies? Of course not. I’m a doctor.”
“Trust me, I’ve met a doctor who had enemies. I was her enemy. She’s not here anymore,” Erin said, an odd pleasure to her tone.
This was a dangerous woman. A predator. She was probably the kind of woman who worked with a man like Steven Reasor. “You work with him, don’t you?”
“I work for a couple of men,” she said. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Dr. Reasor.” She said his name, forced herself to say his name. “I assume he’s why I’m here.”
“The Dr. Reasor who worked with Dr. Hope McDonald?”
They were going to dance around the subject? “Yes. I saw him today. Is that why I’m here? He was supposed to be dead.”
“How did he die?” Erin asked.
Frustration threatened to well over. “He didn’t since he was in my building earlier today.”
“Who told you he died?”
She wasn’t playing this game. “I’m done. I want to make a call.”
“Who are you planning on calling?”
“My boyfriend. He’ll come get me.” She needed to see Owen. Tears pierced her eyes and she fought hard not to shed them.
“Are you sure about that? It might be better to leave him out of this,” Erin replied. “I’ve found that bringing men into a situation does nothing but complicate things.”
Becca stood up. “Fine. Shoot me, but I’m leaving. I’m not playing this game with you and I won’t let that man hurt me again. I won’t. Owen will look for me. He’s probably looking for me right now, and he’s smart and strong. He’ll figure out where I am, and then you should watch your back.”
A look crossed Erin’s face. It almost seemed like sympathy. “Things aren’t always as they seem, are they, Dr. Walsh? Remember that.”
The door opened and her heart threatened to stop. Owen was here. She didn’t even think about it. She threw her arms around him and sobbed. He was here. She was safe. He’d come for her and now he could figure this whole terrible situation out and they could go home.
It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t hugging her back. She clung to him and he was simply standing there, his arms at his sides.
She looked up, and his face was an icy mask. “Owen?”
“Dr. Walsh, if you’ll take your seat we can continue.”
She stepped back, feeling the tears coursing down her cheeks. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
His voice was as cold as the look in his eyes. “I didn’t want to give up my cover, but it’s obvious to me you won’t cooperate until you realize no one is coming for you. I know you won’t believe me, but we saved you earlier today. You might deserve prison, but we won’t be the ones to put you there. You have information we need. Cooperate and this will be over soon.”