She wore another skirt suit today. The short hem and sheer black hose had been interesting before she sat down, but now my view was pressed lapels and a shirt buttoned all the way up. Pity.
“I assume you heard about the trial.” Holland’s lips pressed a thin line, all seriousness while the lime candy melted in my mouth.
“I heard you don’t have the evidence to convict me,” I said. “Starting to wonder if that’s what this is really all about.” I tried to lean back, but the handcuff chain held me upright.
The investigator shook her head. “I already told you we don’t want a conviction. We want your cooperation.”
“Not a chance.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Then you’ll go to court. And you’ll lose.”
“What other flavors you got?” I gestured to the candy pile.
Heaving a sigh, she slid a yellow lollipop to me. Lemon, with any luck.
“It’s you versus the Capitol, Fitch,” she said as I swirled my tongue around the sucker.
Banana. Damn.
“Do you really think they can’t come up with something to pin on you?” the investigator asked. “Or even put together an unbiased jury?”
DidGrimmreally think that? Or was he too busy scouting his next recruit to care what happened to me?
Holland rose from her seat. She rubbed her hands down her hips in an effort to work out nervous energy.I wished I could do the same.
“As it sits, we have captured one member of the Bloody Hex,” Holland continued. “Only one.”
“And you want the whole set,” I supplied.
She raised her hand. “We want to cut off the head of the snake, and we’re willing to make concessions to ensure that happens.”
I understood strategy, and I recognized this one. I was not the biggest fish in this pond. Grimm, our leader—the commander of our army, as he saw himself—remained the ultimate prize. Cutting off the head of a snake caused the whole body to die. Presumably, without Grimm around, the gang would crumble, and those who owed allegiance to it would fade into the background.
“I know you didn’t want this life.” Holland had returned to her seat, once more on eye level with me. “I know you’ve had to do things you never imagined you would, or even could. The Bloody Hex and Grimm… they took your life away, Fitch. They murdered your family and poisoned you against everything you believed in.”
Hadn’t I told Donovan the same things? The tragedy of my life did not elude me. But when I pleaded with my brother to save himself from a future of corruption and crime, I was met with the same stony resolve I showed the investigator now.
“Bringing them to justice won’t undo all of that,” Holland concluded. “But it’s a start.”
I bit down on the banana sucker, crushing it into shards. She stared while I chewed, and silence swelled between us. Finally, I swallowed.
“Is it my turn to talk?” I asked.
She nodded. “By all means.”
“I get your angle,” I said. “We were friends wayback when. Used to have a lot in common. You think you can come in here and remind me what a good boy I used to be. How great things were. But youdon’tknow me, Miss Lyle. Not at all. That naïve kid you remember so well? He died. I killed him, then I rose from his ashes like a phoenix, majestic as fuck.”
A long moment passed before Holland heaved a sigh. “This is going nowhere.” She swept the leftover candy into her bag.
“It’s a dead end, Investigator,” I said. “If you want to take down the Bloody Hex, you’re gonna need to do it yourself.”
Zipping her purse closed, she stood. Agitation was plain on her face. “You have time to reconsider,” she said. “I’ll be back.”
“And I’ll be here,” I replied.
For seven more days.
Clyde was busy with laundry duty this time of day, so I found myself alone. Work assignments were for long-term inmates; too bad because learning how to fold a fitted sheet would have been the highlight of my week.