Page 73 of Protecting Silver
“WHAT?” he screamed as he jumped to his feet. Decker and the other agents didn’t let them get far when they tried to run. After only a few steps, they were stopped and cuffed. While the agents read them their rights, Patch turned and went down to the bathroom. He gave the pre-arranged knock, and was let in. When Silver joined him, they both watched as Merriweather and the woman with him were led away in cuffs.
“It’s over,” he said.
“No, we have to get this guy back to his parents.” Silver looked over when Daniel came rushing down the hall from the opposite direction.
“We just got a call from the agents over at a hospital an hour north of here. Charlie matches the description of a little boy who’s gone missing.”
“We’ll take him,” Tamara said as she reached to take Charlie from Silver’s arm.
“No, I want to go with you. Besides, I can hold him in the back seat while you drive.”
“If you’re sure?”
“Yes.” Silver said and the five of them left. When Daniel stopped Patch with a question, he only said he was going to the hospital, and would come back and watch the interrogation. They left it at that.
Chapter 33
“You okay?”Silver asked Patch several hours later. They had just returned from the hospital, and had to answer several questions by the FBI agents there, and then the distraught parents. After returning to the Bureau, they changed out of their clothes, and was now heading to the interrogation room. Silver was brought into a room to observe, and Patch looked in to see Merriweather sitting by himself in an otherwise empty room.
“What’s he have to say for himself?” Patch asked Daniel.
“Nothing that I know of. We brought him in, booked him, and he’s been sitting there ever since. We wanted to wait for you. Everything is being recorded, and my boss decided to allow you and Decker to interview him first, then I’ll come in. We want you to go in asking questions about why he did it, then reveal that you had been kidnapped by him.”
“Works for me. Where’s Decker?”
“Here,” the man said from the corner of the room. They exchanged glances, then both left and went over to talk to Merriweather. Patch opened the door and went in first. He noted Decker held a pad of paper and pen. Without saying a word Patch sat down across from Merriweather and studied him intently. Once Decker settled, he reminded the man that he was under oath, and stressed if he wanted a lawyer. At the decline of that option, Patch leaned back like he hadn’t had a care in the world, but was seething inside.
“Why did you do it?” he asked.
“Do what?”
“Sell a child that wasn’t yours to sell?”
“Because, you wanted a child. It’s easy to get one if the price is right.” Merriweather grinned and it took everything Patch had not to reach across the table and knock the other man’s teeth out. “For the right price, you can buy anything. You should know, you were the one willing for fork out all that money to have a child.”
“Ah, but this is where you didn’t realize the money wasn’t mine, and I’m not Mr. Roundtree. I was acting the part and we had you on camera the entire time.”
“That’s entrapment.”
“Is it?” Decker spoke for the first time, and produced a piece of paper from a file Patch hadn’t seen him bring in. “I have a court order here signed by a judge the day before Mr. and Mrs. Roundtree arrived at your office.” At that announcement, Patch gave a small, evil, smirk at the shock on their suspect’s face.
“Before the real FBI come in and interrogate you, I’d like to ask you a few questions of my own.”
“You’re not FBI?”
“Nope, but I am one of your victims.”
“What?” Merriweather scowled at him. “I don’t have any previous victims. Charlie was my first.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Enlighten me, asshole.”
“Fine, it all happened thirty-three years ago. While I don’t remember the actual kidnapping, I do remember you placing me in a foster home. Not two years later, you pulled me out of school, lied to me about my foster father losing his job and not being able to keep me. Then we drove for hours and hours. Upon our arrival, you were paid money by a woman by the name of Sally Albert. Two year later, you came back and took me to another foster home where the man beat his charges. I called you to tell you if you didn’t come get me, I was calling the cops. Any of this ring any bells.”
When Merriweather remained silent, Patch grinned and looked over at Decker. At the newly reinstated agent, Patch turned back, and said, “Though I could be mistaken, since your name is Joshua Samuel Merriweather, my caseworker at the time was a Silas Jackson Merrick. Same initials, just different name. Isn’t that right, Merrick.” As soon as the other man turned deadly white, and began to sway in his seat, Patch felt satisfaction.
“Who are you?”
