with heat; her mouth was dry, tongue thick with thirst. She swallowed.
‘You all right, hon? Want some water? A soda?’
She didn’t want anything to drink. What she wanted right now was to get out of the wheelchair, lock the door and pound his face until his teeth turned to dust.
She started undoing the strap binding her left wrist.
Army Boy reached for his belt and came back with a tranquillizer gun. He put it on the table, pointing the muzzle in her direction.
‘What’s that for?’
‘Just in case you decide to pull any of that Rambo shit,’ he said. ‘You can take that strap off but leave on the ones on your legs.’
‘No need to worry, I promise to be a good little girl.’ Darby winked at him and grabbed the clipboard with both hands.
She pretended to read through the pages again as she considered her options. It didn’t take her long since she didn’t have any.
She picked up the cheap Bic pen from her lap.
‘That’a girl.’
She removed the thick stack of sheets from the clipboard and found pages fifteen through twenty. She placed them on the top of the stack.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked.
‘I want to read these carefully, make sure I understand everything since my head’s feeling, you know, a little thick.’
‘Smart move.’
Darby read through the five pages again as Army Boy watched, his hand still gripping the tranquillizer gun. He kept stealing glances at his watch. When she placed the clipboard on her lap, he watched as she signed her name.
She held up the signed sheet for him to inspect and saw some of that caged heat leave his gaze. She placed the page on the edge of the desk, signed the next one, held it up for him and then placed it on the desk. By the time she’d moved on to the third page, his shoulders had relaxed.
All five pages were now signed and sitting on the desk.
‘Can I go now?’
‘Not yet,’ he said, leaning back in his chair. He kept the gun on the table, pointed at her, and crossed his legs. ‘You need to initial the other ones to say you’ve read them. And don’t forget to sign where stated.’
Darby picked up the loose pages from the desk. She shuffled them together and tucked them behind the clipboard resting on her lap.
She read the first page on the stack, initialled it and held it up for him. He nodded and she placed it on top of the desk.
Darby went through the same motion – reading each sheet, signing it, holding it up for inspection, placing it on the desk – for the next twenty or so sheets. Then she reached underneath the clipboard and placed her fingers on the pages resting on her lap – those five lovely pages that spelled out in great detail what would happen if she decided to poke her pretty little nose into this investigation – and pushed them between her thighs.
Her legs pressed together, she picked up the loose collection of pages, shuffled them and then placed them behind the stack resting on the clipboard. She moved it to the side and glanced quickly at her lap, pleased to find that she couldn’t see the pages tucked between her thighs.
‘I’d like some water,’ she said.
‘I’ll get you a bottle on your way out.’
‘You’re the one who made the offer. I’d like it now please. And I need to use the bathroom.’
‘Then I suggest you hurry up and finish.’
She was about to sign the next sheet when she hesitated.
‘There’s nothing in here about your returning my tactical equipment.’
‘Confiscated,’ he said.
‘When am I going to get it back?’
‘You’re not. It’s evidence, part of our investigation.’
‘Why is the army investigating this case?’
‘Domestic terrorism. We’re working in conjunction with the FBI and the ATF.’
Which meant they had most likely pushed the New Hampshire detectives to the sidelines. The government hated sharing information among themselves, let alone with state or local police.
‘What about my clothes?’
‘Incinerated,’ he said. ‘But you’ll be
‘You all right, hon? Want some water? A soda?’
She didn’t want anything to drink. What she wanted right now was to get out of the wheelchair, lock the door and pound his face until his teeth turned to dust.
She started undoing the strap binding her left wrist.
Army Boy reached for his belt and came back with a tranquillizer gun. He put it on the table, pointing the muzzle in her direction.
‘What’s that for?’
‘Just in case you decide to pull any of that Rambo shit,’ he said. ‘You can take that strap off but leave on the ones on your legs.’
‘No need to worry, I promise to be a good little girl.’ Darby winked at him and grabbed the clipboard with both hands.
She pretended to read through the pages again as she considered her options. It didn’t take her long since she didn’t have any.
She picked up the cheap Bic pen from her lap.
‘That’a girl.’
She removed the thick stack of sheets from the clipboard and found pages fifteen through twenty. She placed them on the top of the stack.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked.
‘I want to read these carefully, make sure I understand everything since my head’s feeling, you know, a little thick.’
‘Smart move.’
Darby read through the five pages again as Army Boy watched, his hand still gripping the tranquillizer gun. He kept stealing glances at his watch. When she placed the clipboard on her lap, he watched as she signed her name.
She held up the signed sheet for him to inspect and saw some of that caged heat leave his gaze. She placed the page on the edge of the desk, signed the next one, held it up for him and then placed it on the desk. By the time she’d moved on to the third page, his shoulders had relaxed.
All five pages were now signed and sitting on the desk.
‘Can I go now?’
‘Not yet,’ he said, leaning back in his chair. He kept the gun on the table, pointed at her, and crossed his legs. ‘You need to initial the other ones to say you’ve read them. And don’t forget to sign where stated.’
Darby picked up the loose pages from the desk. She shuffled them together and tucked them behind the clipboard resting on her lap.
She read the first page on the stack, initialled it and held it up for him. He nodded and she placed it on top of the desk.
Darby went through the same motion – reading each sheet, signing it, holding it up for inspection, placing it on the desk – for the next twenty or so sheets. Then she reached underneath the clipboard and placed her fingers on the pages resting on her lap – those five lovely pages that spelled out in great detail what would happen if she decided to poke her pretty little nose into this investigation – and pushed them between her thighs.
Her legs pressed together, she picked up the loose collection of pages, shuffled them and then placed them behind the stack resting on the clipboard. She moved it to the side and glanced quickly at her lap, pleased to find that she couldn’t see the pages tucked between her thighs.
‘I’d like some water,’ she said.
‘I’ll get you a bottle on your way out.’
‘You’re the one who made the offer. I’d like it now please. And I need to use the bathroom.’
‘Then I suggest you hurry up and finish.’
She was about to sign the next sheet when she hesitated.
‘There’s nothing in here about your returning my tactical equipment.’
‘Confiscated,’ he said.
‘When am I going to get it back?’
‘You’re not. It’s evidence, part of our investigation.’
‘Why is the army investigating this case?’
‘Domestic terrorism. We’re working in conjunction with the FBI and the ATF.’
Which meant they had most likely pushed the New Hampshire detectives to the sidelines. The government hated sharing information among themselves, let alone with state or local police.
‘What about my clothes?’
‘Incinerated,’ he said. ‘But you’ll be
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