Shallow Creek

“Sir, I’m not trying to cause any problems,” Brendan insisted.  “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

The driver ignored him, but his partner leaned back. “If only I had a dollar for every time we’ve heard that line.”

“I’m really not wanting trouble.  Are we going to the sheriff’s office?”

The passenger cop smirked a little at this.

“Yeah, we are,” he said.  “But it’s not the sheriff you’ve got to worry about, son.”

“What do you mean?”

The deputy driving looked back at Brendan in the rearview mirror.

“You got bigger problems than Sheriff Troy today, young man,” he said.  “DEA wants to talk to you.”

Brendan sank back in his seat.

“Yup.  You’re screwed,” the other deputy added before turning away.

With the way things looked, he was probably right.  Brendan stared out the window as their short trip to the sheriff’s office drew to a close.

Chapter 35

“I’m no expert,” Brendan said, rubbing his raw wrists, “but shouldn’t I have been read my rights at some point?”

The deputy who’d just removed his shackles smiled, but said nothing.  The guy backed up into a corner of the interview room and watched Brendan intently.  Brendan sat behind the plain grey table and stared into the giant mirrored wall.  Was someone even behind that thing, or was the sole purpose to intimidate those under interrogation?  He’d worked behind enemy lines in the sandbox, so he’d received ample training on resisting even the craziest tortures. These assholes didn’t stand a chance at flustering him.

The only door to the room opened and in strode the last person Brendan had ever expected to find here.  She wore blue jeans, boots, and a plain white polo.  Her long strawberry blonde hair was pulled up in a tidy ponytail.  She took a seat opposite him, shuffled some papers on the table, and then dismissed the extra cop.

“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes, I’m sure.  Thanks.”

The big man shrugged and exited casually.  Now alone with this woman, other than whatever audience hid behind the two-way mirror, Brendan appraised her appearance and bearing while he waited for her to initiate the conversation.  She wore almost no makeup, but she was pretty and still young enough to pull that off.  No jewelry on her fingers, wrists, ears, or neck.  Sitting across from Brendan didn’t faze her, at least not outwardly.  She was a cool one, alright.

“Is Casey your real name?” he asked her.

She didn’t address him until she finished organizing her file, which took an excessive amount of time.

“I’m Special Agent Casey Spee with the DEA, working in conjunction with Sheriff Troy and his deputies,” she announced pleasantly, unclipping her badge from her belt and showing it to Brendan.  “I have a few questions for you, but hopefully we can clear these concerns up without any hiccups.”

Her smile chilled the room.  Brendan smiled back while suppressing his natural instincts to subdue her and then bolt out the door.

“You are Brendan Rhodes, correct?” she asked.

“Are you going to act like we’ve never met before?”

“Just answer the question so we can continue.”

“Have I been charged with anything?”

“No.”

“Then I’m leaving.”

He stood and took only a solitary step towards the door before she started talking.  “You could do that, but I’ll have a warrant out for your arrest in an hour.”

Brendan paused at the door.  Spee wasn’t grinning or lording this over him.  She was every bit the consummate professional.

“It might be better to just clear this stuff up now, you know, to avoid all those legal problems later,” she said.

Resigned to his fate, Brendan returned to his uncomfortable plastic chair.

“You can have a lawyer present,” Spee continued.  “Either your own, or we can provide a public defender.”

“I have nothing to hide, Casey.”

“You can call me Agent Spee, Mr. Rhodes.”

“You got it.”

“I’ll make note that you have refused representation.”

“You do that.  Was all that shit about your sister true?”

“That was part of my cover.”

“I’m guessing this little revelation here means that you’re no longer undercover?”

“I’ll be asking the questions here, Mr. Rhodes.”  Spee regarded her notes one more time before the fun began.  “Why did my men find you locked in the basement of a barn that looked a lot like an upscale methamphetamine kitchen?”

“I followed someone out there because I suspected they were involved in the drug trade.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’d say I did.”

“If you want to prove your innocence in all of this, you’d better give me more than that, Mr. Rhodes.”

Brendan leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms.  What did he have to lose at this point?

“Fine.  I followed someone out there and staked the place out.  When a crew of hostiles exited the barn, I snuck in and scoped the place out.  A couple of them came back and pinned me in.  I needed somewhere to hide, and the only place was the damn basement.”

“Not your best idea, I’m guessing,” Spee said.

“No, it wasn’t, but then I knocked myself out looking for the gas leak.”

“So you were overcome by fumes?”