Page 35 of The Negotiator

Chapter Ten

Garrett really wanted to kill this guy. The only thing stopping him was Lauren. She made him promise this morning not to lose it. Then Wren made him promise to follow the rules and wait for the detective to arrive. It struck Garrett that a lot of people were worried about his control.

Matthias stood at the door to Lauren’s office on the pier with some of his guys stationed outside, just in case. Garrett didn’t see Matthias stepping in unless he lost all control, and Garrett had no intention of doing that.

Bob sat at the small table, flipping one of Lauren’s pamphlets over in his hand, tapping one end then the other against the scarred wood in front of him. “What am I doing here?”

It was a fair question. Garrett had thought about bringing the police in and letting them handle it. That would have been the easier call, the smart one. But he wanted the satisfaction of seeing Bob’s face when he got caught. “Admitting your guilt would be nice.”

Bob’s hand froze in midair. “What are you talking about?”

Garrett glanced at Matthias. He hadn’t moved from his position at the door. Hadn’t shown one ounce of emotion since they reviewed the evidence less than an hour ago and filled Lauren in.

“We set up video at Lauren’s house.” Garrett kept his fingers on the laptop keyboard facing him. “You’re on it.”

“I don’t know—”

“Shut the fuck up and listen.” Matthias stepped forward as he spoke. He stopped next to Bob, standing there. Looming over him and not doing anything to hide his frustration. It even vibrated on his voice.

“We know you were in on Carl’s disappearance. You faked the financial documents to scam Lauren. You helped him fake his disappearance,” Garrett said. When Bob leaned forward and his mouth dropped open, Garrett kept going. “No, I’m still talking.”

Matthias leaned in even closer to Bob. “I’d listen to him.”

“And then last night you broke into Lauren’s house. Unfortunately for you, we were ready for you.” Wren had cleaned up the video and sent it to Garrett this morning. Bob sneaking over the neighbor’s fence and dropping into Lauren’s yard. He went right to the cracked window as if he’s been checking the place out since the murder.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Matthias let out a long angry exhale as he looked at Garrett. “It’s like he wants you to punch him.”

“It does feel that way.” Garrett spun the laptop around on the table for Bob to see the image frozen on it. “That’s you, dumbass.”

Bob was already shaking his head and shifting around in his chair. “You don’t understand.”

This should be good.“Explain it.”

Funny how fast the tough-guy façade crumbled. Garrett had seen it a million times, across many cases, and it still fascinated him. Denial would turn to “how dare you” and defensive words, then panic set in. They babbled then.

Bob spread his hands on the table. He stared at them. Looked at the wall. Even glanced out the window. It took him what felt like forever to start talking again. “This was all Carl. He used me to trick Lauren.”

So he was playing the role of victim. Interesting but not effective because Garrett did not buy it.

He leaned back in his chair and studied Bob. Maybe greed made the guy stupid. Garrett didn’t know and didn’t care so long as Lauren was safe. “Come up with a better story.”

Matthias made a show of glancing at his watch. “And I’d do it fast because Detective Cryer is on his way to arrest you.”

A screeching sound rang out in the room as Bob jumped up from his seat. The chair fell backward and he was on his feet. The darting eyes and crouched-to-run position made it clear he planned to play this the hard way.

The dumbass.

“Sit,” Matthias ordered.

Garrett was not in the mood for extra drama. He pointed at the fallen chair. “Really, sit.”

He wanted to fill Lauren in on events and then take her to dinner. After that they could spend the night, or a week or even more, in bed. He’d even celebrate the holiday if it meant being with her.

“You don’t want to—” But it was too late. In the middle of Garrett’s sentence Bob bolted. He made a run at the door and slammed into Matthias’s chest instead. He hit Matthias hard enough that Garrett could hear a thud. “Did you really think that was going to work?”

Matthias grabbed Bob’s suit jacket with one hand and picked up the chair with the other. He dropped the man into the seat without raising his voice. “I hope you’re better with money than running, though the evidence you left behind suggests otherwise.”

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