All He Sees, page 2
She strode through the lobby and toward the security desk, where a guard was sitting.
"Agent Nicky Lyons of the FBI," she said. "I'm here to see Felix Anderson."
The guard typed some things into his computer, then gave her a once-over, as if to double check she was serious. She stared right back at him, her hands wrapped tight around her chest, her jaw firm. Nicky was here on personal business, but she had her FBI badge—he had to let her through.
"Go down that hall, then take a left," the guard said, bored. "Go down the hall, then take another left. You'll find room C-16."
The guard handed her a security pass. Nicky clipped it to her jacket. “Thanks,” she said.
She turned on her heel and went down the hall of the prison. As she walked, she found herself growing more and more anxious. Her heart was racing, and her palms grew sweaty. She wiped them on her pants and took a deep breath.
She was going to have to figure out how to extract information from Felix. In the time she'd spent with him before his arrest, she'd learned that he was a maddening, manipulative man who wouldn’t give a straight answer. She'd need to be careful with him. She had to tread cautiously.
Nicky stopped in front of the room and took a few deep breaths. She could do this. She could interrogate the man.
She opened the door and stepped inside. Felix was sitting at a table, staring blankly ahead. The two of them were separated by invisible, soundproof glass. Nicky took a seat. Their eyes locked. Nicky ignored the feeling of unease that curled in her stomach. After a moment, she picked up the phone, and Felix did too.
"Hello, Agent Nicky Lyons," Felix said, turning to face her. "It's been a while."
He was smiling. His lips were curled up, his eyes were squinting, and there was a devilish glint in his eyes that made Nicky's stomach sink.
"This is a nice surprise," he said, sitting back and clasping his hands together. "I wasn't expecting you."
Nicky was silent. His playful tone got under her skin, and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction—or amusement—of playing his little game.
"I would have put on a suit if I had known you were going to be here," Felix said coyly. "However, it really is nice to see you."
"I'm here for answers, Anderson," Nicky said, growing more and more irritated by the second. "You're going to give them to me."
Felix laughed. "Or what?" he said. "You'll hurt me? Is that it? I know you can't do that, so what will you do to make me speak?"
Nicky's jaw tensed. She hated this asshole, and it was hard to save face against him when she remembered how sick he was.
"You're in prison,” she said.
"I am," he said. "But that doesn't mean much, does it?"
To him, maybe not. Nicky needed to get inside Felix’s head, but the truth was, she wasn’t sure how. He was an enigma, near impossible to read; everything he said was laced with amusement, so any real emotions he felt could easily be hidden. Whether he was lying, telling the truth, or just playing a game—Nicky would have a hard time knowing.
And today, she was short on patience. Today, she just wanted to threaten him and make him talk.
"I can make you listen," Nicky said. "I can make you cooperate. I can make you talk about what you know about Rosie."
Her words were firm. Her voice was steady. Her gaze was steely.
"I'll do whatever it takes to make you talk," Nicky said coldly. "Do you understand me? Whatever it takes. I can make your time in this prison very shitty, Felix. No reading material. You’ll spend your days staring at a wall. Is that what you want?”
Felix laughed again, a sharp, cackling laugh that made Nicky's teeth clench.
"You don't scare me, Agent Lyons," he said.
Nicky stared at him, trying to figure him out. She could see his eyes. His face. His expressions. They all told a story, if only she had been able to decipher it.
"I'm not afraid of you, Agent Lyons," he repeated. "You've done nothing to me. Even when you put me in this place, it felt more like a vacation. I like being here."
Nicky's teeth clenched. This man was infuriating.
"If you're not afraid of me," she said, "then tell me what I want to know. Tell me what you know about Rosie."
Felix's smile grew wider.
"You're not going to break me, Agent Lyons," he said, shaking his head. "You're not going to get a single thing out of me."
Nicky's face fell. She put her elbows on the table and leaned forward.
"How do you know my sister's name?" she snapped. "How did you know about me? Do you know who took us? What was his name?"
Felix had been smiling, but the mention of her sister's name made that smile vanish.
His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a sneer.
"I know what I know," he said, flicking his fingers dismissively. "And that's that."
Nicky's hands turned into fists. Once again, this man was taunting her. He was playing games, and she had no idea how to unmask him.
"You're going to tell me what you know," she said, her voice growing more and more firm. "Or else, I'll make sure your stay at this prison is extremely unpleasant." It was a bluff, mostly, as Nicky likely wouldn't have much of a say--but she could try to get his rights restricted, make it so he had no access to reading materials or anything to pass his time more pleasantly. That wasn’t a bluff. Nicky was with the FBI—she could pull some strings. Maybe even get him put in isolation.
Felix leaned forward, staring right at Nicky. She was surprised at his boldness.
"You can do that if you want to," he said. "But I think you'll regret it."
He leaned back in his chair, and his eyes changed, as if he wasn't looking at her anymore. Instead, he was looking into the past, remembering something, something that Nicky was desperate to find out.
Nicky leaned forward. "I'm waiting," she said.
"You know, Agent Lyons," he said, his voice turning cold, "I've got a lot of time on my hands. I've got nothing but time. And I think you'll regret trying to play with me."
Nicky frowned. She leaned back in her seat and drummed her fingers on the table. She didn't know what to do, what to say. She was frustrated, and she was tired of this guy. She was tired of his games, tired of being here in this prison, tired of trying to get answers out of him.
And she needed to clear her damn head.
Coming in here, being all aggressive—it wasn’t the right move. Nicky knew that, but it was hard to keep her head on straight when so much was at stake.
She straightened her jacket. She looked at Felix--really looked at him. She considered him. She thought about him. What would work? She had tried being harsh, being demanding; but she hadn't tried being nice, or making him think she was, somehow, on his side. She wasn't sure if it would work. Felix was deranged, but he wasn't unintelligent. He’d probably see through her ruse, but at this point, Nicky was willing to try anything.
"I think," she said slowly, putting her hands on the table, "that you and I can come to an agreement."
Felix raised an eyebrow. "What kind of agreement?" he said, his voice turning wary.
"You're right that you'll have a lot of time here," Nicky said. "What kind of books do you like, Felix? I could get them for you. Make it so you can read them in your cell."
"I've got all the books I could possibly want in my cell," he said. "And I've read them all multiple times."
"Well, what would you like?" Nicky asked. "Some art supplies? Are you an artist? I can get them for you."
Felix shook his head. "I'm not an artist."
Nicky was silent. She didn't want to give up, but she didn't know what else to say.
"There's a gym here," she said. "You like sports, don't you? I could talk to the warden, get you access to it."
"I'm not interested in your toys," Felix said.
Nicky took in a deep breath. She was getting nowhere. She considered what else she could offer him. He wouldn’t take threats—he also wouldn’t take bribes. So, what the hell did he want?
Felix started to laugh.
"You're wasting your time, Agent Lyons," he said. "But you know what? You've given me some entertainment for today, and I've enjoyed our time together. I'll tell you what: I'll give you one little hint."
Nicky's heart stalled. Was he being serious? She didn’t want to get her hopes too high—to trust this deranged lunatic—but she had no choice. "Tell me what you know," she said.
Felix's grin widened. "It all comes back to your father."
Nicky paused. Her father? What did he have to do with this? Nicky didn't even talk to him. And after Rosie disappeared, her father always blamed her. He was a deadbeat drunk who could barely hold a job. He still lived in Nelly, West Virginia, where Nicky was from.
"Why is it all about my father?" she asked.
"Oh, no," Felix said, shaking his head. "That's more than I'm willing to give you. I'll say one thing: you'll find what you're looking for when you find him."
Nicky frowned. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I'm not going to tell you," Felix said. "What kind of game would that be?"
He was twisted. But still, at least he was talking. It was more than Nicky had gotten out of him before. It wasn't much, but anything was better than this strained silence. But the concept of Nicky's father knowing anything was laughable at best. Her dad was too drunk to walk straight back then, let alone know anything about the kidnapper. It made no sense.
"You're lying," Nicky said. "My father has nothing to do with this."
"Doesn't he?" Felix taunted. The smile left Felix's face, and he looked at Nicky for a long pause. Then his eyebrows crinkled, and he seemed to think something over.
Nicky gritted her teeth--just as a guard knocked on the door and poked his head in. "Agent Lyons? There's a call for you."
Nicky frowned. Her cell phone was turned off in her pocket--she hadn't wanted anything to interrupt her time with Felix, but her boss, Chief Eric Franco, knew she was coming here today. It had to be him.
Shooting Felix one last glare, Nicky stood up. "I'll be seeing you, Felix," she said. "Enjoy your stay here."
And she turned, following the guard out of the room.
Nicky walked through the halls of the prison, following the guard to his office where he handed her the phone.
"Hello?" she said, her eyes darting around. She was nervous to be in this place, and she wanted to get out as fast as possible.
"Nicky, it's Chief Franco," said a voice on the other end of the call. "I need you to get back to HQ now."
Nicky frowned. "What's going on, Chief?"
“It's about one of the names on your list. We thought she was an isolated kidnapping, but we may have been horribly wrong.”
Shit. This could be huge. “I’ll be right there, sir,” Nicky said, then hung up. With that, she began speeding out of the prison. She couldn’t waste any more time on Felix, not now.
She was needed elsewhere.
And by the sound of the chief’s call, she had some girls to save.
CHAPTER TWO
Back at HQ in Jacksonville, Florida, Nicky stepped off the elevator and into the busy FBI office. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, the agents in their cubicles typing away on keyboards or sitting in front of huge computer screens. They were all busy, but she could hear their conversations, the hiss of their coffee, and the sounds of their chewing.
Nicky breezed through the office and made her way to the briefing room, trying not to think about what Felix had said. It was ridiculous; what could he know about her father? The man was a drunk. After Rosie had disappeared, he'd even ended up in jail for a bit because of a drunken assault on someone at a bar. He wasn't a particularly good man, nor was he a great father. He had been better before Rosie was gone. In many ways, Nicky understood. Her mother died, Rosie was gone, and her father just... lost all good in him.
Nicky hadn't spoken to him in years, nor did she care to. The last few times they'd seen each other had been hostile at best. They'd been at her mother's funeral, and her father had been drunk. He'd yelled at her, blaming her for Rosie's disappearance; even though they'd never had the best relationship, it was still difficult. Then, she saw him again at a bar in their hometown of Nelly, West Virginia, and her father had been drunk and angry. He had started to yell at her again, and he'd even gotten so mad that he'd thrown a punch at her. Nicky had ducked, and security had escorted him out.
Nicky had tried going to him after that, to reconcile and make peace--but he'd just slammed the door in her face.
She realized afterwards that she never cared to reconcile their relationship. He was supposed to be the adult, but he acted like a drunk child, and it wasn't worth the stress on Nicky's life.
She shook her head. Why was she even thinking about this? Clearly, Felix had just been making something up to get into her head. That had to be it.
Nicky sighed and pushed through the door to the briefing room.
The room was designed for meetings between agents, for debriefs, and conferences. There was a main table with chairs, and a whiteboard on the wall behind it. She could glance at the board and see lines of writing and facts. The room was bland, but efficient.
Nicky took a seat at the table and waited. She didn't have to wait long before Chief Eric Franco entered and took his seat at the head of the board, followed by Nicky's partner, Agent Ken Walker. The third member of their team, Agent Grace Taylor, walked in behind them.
Nicky was in charge of a task force that focused on missing girls--particularly a list of ten specific, high-profile cases. They'd already saved three women--but there were seven left on the list. If Franco was bringing them all together, Nicky knew it was because something had come up in relation to the list.
"Agent Lyons, I'm glad you could make it," the chief said as Ken and Grace sat around Nicky.
"What's going on?" Nicky asked.
"I'll get to that in a second," Franco said. "First, I just want to say that your work on the task force has been exemplary, Agent Lyons. We all know how hard you've worked."
Nicky smiled and nodded. She appreciated the sort-of compliment, though she didn't really want it. She didn't want to be anyone's star agent--she just wanted to do her job.
"And I know you've been working tirelessly," Franco went on, "but there's been a new development in the case, and it's... difficult."
"What's the new development?" Nicky asked.
"We've found another girl," Franco said.
Nicky's heart sank. "Is it one of the girls on our list?"
"It's not," Franco said. "But we think it could be related." Franco went over and flicked off the lights, then dragged the overhead projector in place to show an image on the whiteboard. The light filled the room, as did a picture of a young girl with freckles, brown eyes, brown hair, and a toothy smile with a nice tan.
"This is Clara Jones," Franco said. "She's one of the girls on our list. As you know, she went missing about three months ago."
Nicky nodded. Of course, she knew the name of every girl on the list. She had plans to save all of them.
Eric put another picture up on the projector. It was of a different girl--but one who bore a striking resemblance to Clara. The freckles, the sun-tanned skin, the wavy brown hair, a slim and athletic build.
"This is Erica Michaels," Franco said. "She went missing eight months ago."
He put up another photo. Same thing--a different girl, but one who looked a lot like Clara.
"And this is Mira Phillips. She went missing three days ago."
Franco paced across the room, and Nicky listened intently, wondering where this was going. Clearly, there was a physical resemblance between these girls. But were the cases related?
"See, Clara Jones is the only one on our list," Franco said, "but we have two other girls missing from the same area, who look a hell of a lot like Ms. Jones. We're starting to think these cases are related."
"I can see why," Nicky mumbled. She shared a look with Ken, whose blue eyes locked on hers, rimmed with inky black lashes. Grace gave Nicky a concerned look, her strawberry blonde hair in a tight ponytail.
"I'm sure you know where I'm going with this," Franco said. "I need you all on this. Agent Lyons, under your leadership, this task force has saved three missing girls from our list--not to mention the others involved who weren't on our list. I need you to put your best foot forward on this one and find out what the hell is going on before we lose another one."
"I'm on it, Chief," Nicky said. "Where are we heading?"
Franco turned off the projector and put the lights back on, then tucked his hands behind his back. "There's a coastal community where these girls went missing from, about an hour by plane. I've arranged to have a rental car waiting for you at the airport."
"What's the town called?" Nicky asked.
"Vale," Franco said. "It's a small town, but there's a lot of ground to cover. We need to keep in contact, and I'll arrange to get you a few more agents to help you out."
"Thank you, sir," Nicky said.
"Get to work," Franco said. He swept out of the room. "Oh, and Nicky," Franco said, turning around, “I know you understand how important this is. You’ve done a stellar job so far, but I have to re-emphasize that we can’t let these girls down. If we do… we could lose even more of them.”
Nicky swallowed hard, feeling a knot in her throat. She nodded and tried to smile. "I wouldn't dream of it, sir."
"Good," Franco said. "That goes for the rest of you too. Let's save those girls. I'm trusting you all with this."
With that, Chief Franco left the team. Nicky, Ken, and Grace sat in silence for a moment before Grace blurted:
"Jeez, no pressure."
"There's always pressure, Agent Taylor," Nicky mumbled. Grace was a young agent--Nicky was only twenty-nine, but Grace was no older than twenty-six. Ken, on the other hand, was thirty-five and more seasoned than the rest of them, even though Nicky was the one in charge. Her past--being kidnapped herself when she was a teenager--gave her a unique perspective on missing girls cases, which was why she'd been chosen to spearhead the team.
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