Page 148 of Can You Take It?

Wilson gets up from his chair, straightening his jacket. “It’s settled then. Close Victor’s case and get back on the Striker.”

I nod. As he heads for the door, he pauses and looks back at me. “And Richard, always remember—a man can’t be in love and be a profiler.”

I meet his eyes, seeing a flicker of something—perhaps regret or wisdom born from experience. His use of my first name catches me off guard. He never addresses me like that. It makes his next words sink even deeper.

“Love clouds judgment. When you’re a profiler, you need to be objective. Emotions make you vulnerable, and vulnerability can get you killed or worse—make you lose the case.”

I swallow hard, his advice ringing painfully true. “I get it. I’ll be careful.”

Wilson nods, his expression softening just a fraction. “You’re a good profiler, Reynolds. Don’t let anything compromise that.”

I walk into the interrogation room, Noah is already there, setting up the recording equipment. Victor sits at the table, handcuffed, looking far too relaxed for a man in his position. There’s a smugness in his eyes which wouldn’t be there for far too long.

“Victor Montclair,” I greet him.

My sentence dissolves when the door opens and Deputy Graham from Hollowbrook strolls in. His presence is an irritation I don’t need right now. Graham’s got that same fucking look on his face that Victor does.

“Agent, Mr. Montclair isn’t going to say anything. This case officially belongs to Hollowbrook jurisdiction,” Graham says, crossing his arms and stepping between me and Victor like he’s got some sort of authority here.

“The fuck did you just say?” I take a step closer, feeling Noah shift beside me, ready to back me up.

“This case belongs to Hollowbrook PD. You don’t have the authority to interrogate him without our say-so.”

I feel the anger flare up, hot and fast. I don’t have time for this local bullshit. I step forward, close enough that Graham can feel the heat radiating off me. I stare him down, and he must see something in my eyes because he shifts on his feet, just a little, but enough to give away his nerves.

Then, he does something really fucking stupid. His hand moves to his side, and before I realize what’s happening, he pulls out his gun, holding it low but still in clear sight.

“Get out of my way, Deputy. This is a federal investigation, and I don’t give a shit about your little town politics. I will speak to whoever the fuck I want to.”

Graham’s confidence wavers but he doesn’t pull the gun down. “I’m just saying—”

That’s it. I’ve had enough of this asshole. I grab his wrist and twist it hard. He tries to resist, but he’s no match for me. The gun clatters to the floor. I apply more pressure, feeling the bones in his wrist strain against the force.

“You’re just saying shit,” I cut him off. “Here’s how this is going to go, Graham. You’re going to step the fuck back, or I’m going to bury you so deep in red tape you’ll forget what daylight looks like. I’ve got the full weight of the FBI behind me, and trust me, I’ve got more than a few favors to call in if I need to.”

The deputy’s face tightens, but he’s not stupid. He knows when he’s outmatched. “You can’t just—”

“I can and I will,” I cut him off again. With a final, sharp twist, I release his wrist, sending him stumbling back. He clutches his mangled hand, biting back another scream. “Now, you can either step the fuck aside and let us do our job, or you can get your lawyer on speed dial. Your call.”

Graham hesitates, and for a second, I think he’s going to keep pushing. But then he steps back, muttering something under his breath. Good fucking choice.

“Get out,” I snap fully expecting him to turn tail and leave. But the stubborn bastard just stands there, nursing his broken wrist like he’s got something to prove.

I shoot a look at Noah, jerking my head toward Graham. “Noah, escort this asshole out before I kick his sorry ass out myself.”

Noah doesn’t need to be told twice. He gets up, grabs Graham by the arm, and hauls him toward the door. Graham tries to resist, but with one good arm, he’s no match for Noah. “Come on, Deputy. Let’s get you out of here before Agent Reynolds does something you’ll really regret.”

Once Graham’s out of the room, I finally turn my attention back to Victor.

“Now,” I say, pulling up a chair and sitting across from him, “where were we?”

Victor’s grin widens. “Where do you want me to start, Agent? You want to hear about the girls from Hollowbrook, or should I skip ahead to Virginia? There were fifty-four in total. All of them little bitches who thought they were better than men.” He leans back, completely at ease, like he’s recounting a fucking vacation instead of a murder spree.

“You know what the best part is?” Victor continues. “Hollowbrook PD knew. They knew and did nothing. Turned a blind eye because they didn’t want to deal with me. And now here you are, big shot FBI, and you can’t do a damn thing either. You can’t out me as the Striker, the Slasher, the Boston Killer, or whatever other name you’ve got for me. Because if you do, your little girlfriend Izel? She’s dead. You know it, and I know it. So, what are you gonna do, Agent? Arrest me on some bullshit kidnapping charge? Hand me over to HPD so I can walk out in no time? Because that’s all you’ve got, and we both know it.”

I want to fucking strangle him right then and there. Every fiber of my being is screaming to wipe that smug look off his face, to make him pay for every life he’s taken, for every girl he’s tortured and killed. But he’s right. He’s got me by the balls, and he knows it.

If I try to take him down for the murders, if I even breathe a word about him being the killer, it’ll put Izel in danger. AndI can’t—won’t—let that happen. So, I’m stuck. Stuck with the knowledge that this motherfucker is going to walk.

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