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Chapter 13
Dani
Pritt scoffs. “And you sayIbungled the operation. You barely made it three days before he realized who you were.”
“Do you ever shut up?” Gomez grumbles. Pritt crosses her arms in response.
I stand in front of the two-way mirror, looking at Luka in our interrogation room. It’s not designed to be comfortable. The beige walls are hideous, the chairs and table are made of uncomfortable metal, and everything is bolted down for safety. Yet Luka sits there like it’s a damn throne and he owns everything in the room, one arm slung over the back of the seat with one ankle crossed over his knee.
He’s been in there for five hours. Waiting. He hasn’t bothered asking for a phone call to speak to his brothers or a lawyer. He hasn’t even asked for aspirin, and I know he’s got to be in pain. Gomez entered a while ago to offer him a cup of water, but Luka refused to speak. He’s gone ice cold, sitting there like a silent sentry. He isn’t the least bit fazed.
“He knew my name,” I mutter, still reeling from the realization. “He might have known about me and this operation well before I made first contact. That day at Matianna… He ignored you outright and took your brooch on purpose to draw me out. Hewantedto bump into me.”
“You think he had the drop on us this whole time?” Gomez asks. “But how?”
“Why don’t you just go in there and ask him?” Pritt suggests, her tone derisive.
I lean against the edge of the mirror and watch Luka closely. “No. I want him to sweat a little more.”
“Fine, do whatever. I’m getting a coffee.”
Gomez follows her out. “You know what, I’ll join you? I need to drain the snake, anyway.”
“Ugh, gross. Have a little class, would you?”
“Harper, you coming?”
I shake my head. “No, thank you. I’m going to wait for Peterson to arrive.”
Gomez and Pritt leave the room, leaving me to stew in my own silence.
Getting to observe Luka like this is surreal. It reminds me of our date at the aquarium. The only thing separating me from the shark is a thick piece of glass. I regard him carefully, trying to get a read on him as he boredly strums his fingers along the edge of the metal table before him. His resolve is commendable, I’ll give him that much. I’ve dealt with domestic terrorists and cartel lieutenants who’ve cracked faster, quick to spill their secrets in the hopes of striking a bargain.
But something isn’t sitting right with me.
If he knew who I was the entire time, why didn’t he try to take me out of the equation? Why go through with this whole charade of dating me when he knew my identity from the start? And why would Luka bother protecting me from the man with the knife if he knew I was his enemy? Something isn’t adding up here, but the more I think about it, the more it hurts my brain.
Slowly, Luka turns in his seat and faces the mirror. He doesn’t look at it so much asthroughit. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knows it’s a two-way.
“If it’s alright with you, Agent Harper, I’m going to need my painkillers soon.” He pats his hip on the side where he was stabbed. “I think I tore a stitch.”
I have access to the room’s microphone, but I don’t press theTALKbutton. Instead, I take in the smug nature of his smile and the pompous air radiating off him. I don’t understand why he’s being so cavalier right now. He’s inmyinterrogation room, not a freaking funhouse.
Luka tilts his head to the side. He pouts his lips slightly—mockingme. “Don’t give me the cold shoulder, Dani. Even ice melts, you know.”
I press the mic button. “Sit down.”
His smile stretches. “I was only fifty percent sure you were in there. Thank you for confirming.”
I groan in frustration. “Sit down. I won’t warn you again.”
Luka puts his hands up in mock surrender, returning to his chair slowly. He grunts as he sits, his face grimacing in discomfort. I ignore the pang in my chest and try to focus on the task at hand. I believe his pain is real, but I can’t fold this easily to his demands. We’re still waiting on the tech team to crack his phone. Hisrealphone.
When I saw him pull it out to call his brother, I nearly had a heart attack. This was the break we’ve been looking for, and it was in his other pocket the entire time. Unfortunately, Luka’s got a ten-digit password. I’m no mathematician, but a password that long with characters ranging from zero to nine… That’s more than a quadrillion possible combinations to bulldoze through. Even with the FBI’s code breaking programs, getting into his device will take ages.
Luka lets his head fall back with a sigh. “If you have questions, just ask me. I’m a willing prisoner here.”
“You’re not a prisoner,” I correct him starkly. “We’re not charging you with anything. Yet.”
