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“Is he in there?” I ask. Two sets of eyes swing in my direction but nobody replies. I look back and forth between the two men, trying to read their faces in my drunken state. “What?”
“You can’t do this,” Captain starts, and I immediately shake my head.
“Fuck yeah, I can. This case is mine. Anything related to Aislin is mine. That guy confessed to me.”
“You’re drunk, James.”
“So is he.” I nod my head in the direction of our suspect.
“We’re aware,” he responds dryly.
I cut my eyes to Tavers even though I speak to my boss. “Then what’s the problem?”
“You’ve had a lot going on. You’re overworked; this case has taken a lot out of you. Someone shot up your backyard, and now you’re drunk. You need a break before you break. You’re a good detective, but you won’t be worth shit if you allow yourself to get burned out.”
“This has nothing to do with being burned out. That’s my case, so I’m going in there. If either of you knows what’s good for you, you won’t stand in my way.”
Tavers shakes his head and looks at the floor.
“Is that a threat?” Captain hisses.
“It’s a goddamned promise.” He tries to interject, so I hold up my hand. “I respect the hell out of you. You taught me most of what I know, so I know you can put yourself in my place and understand. If that were your sister, daughter, niece, or cousin missing for years and found dead, you’d be over here fighting with me, drunk or not. I know you can see exactly where I’m coming from.”
He appears to mull over my words. The muscle in his jaw jumps. “Take a nap, James. We have to let this guy sleep off his booze, so you might as well do the same. You can question him when you’re both sobered up. Eight hours, minimum. Now get out of my sight before I write you up for insubordination.”
Fair enough.
I trek to the spare bunks and climb to the top for some shut-eye. I don’t dare have Tavers take me home. Knowing these two, they’d have the guy lawyered up and questioned before I woke. At least this way I’m still here, and if they dare to start without me, there’ll be hell to pay.
* * *
The slamming doorstartles me awake, but it’s the overhead light clicking on that pisses me the fuck off. I go to sit up, and the dizziness hits along with the sloshing in my gut. “Jesus Christ,” I bite out.
“Rise and shine, princess. Captain’s ready to get this show on the road, and you two have had ten hours of rest.”
Ten hours? “Since when does it take me ten hours to sober up?”
“We had to wait on the other guy, who seemed to have drank a bit more than you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut against the harsh light and rub a hand over my forehead. “Thanks for the rude awakening,” I grumble before hopping down unsteadily.
“You’re welcome. Let’s get this over with so I can get back home to my wife. I need to remind her once again that you’re a grown ass man so she’ll stop sending me out after you.”
“You can tell her I’m bringing the wine next time I come over for dinner.”
Tavers shoots me a glare. I follow him out to the interrogation room where our captain stands just outside the door. He looks pissed off and tired, but who can blame him? I’d apologize except I don’t have an ounce of remorse if this is the guy we’ve been looking for.
“Work your magic, Niko. I’d imagine if he was spouting confessions in a bar, he’ll be easy to crack, but you never know. Liquor makes people loose and nothing tightens up an asshole like the threat of a lifetime prison sentence.” He holds the file out to me. I take it, and without a word, walk into the room.
“You get enough rest?” I ask, setting the file on the table and keeping my tone calm. Just looking at the guy makes me sick. It’s not the time to freak him out, though. Not yet. Right now, I need to be his friend.
“I s’pose.”
“Can I get you something to drink? Water? I know I could use a drink after all those shots.” Without waiting for a response, I walk over to the mini-fridge in the corner and pull out a chilled bottle. I twist the cap off and take a refreshing gulp, not giving a damn that some of it runs down my chin. I gesture to him with the open bottle, sloshing some over the side. “What do you say? Can I get you one?”
He looks torn. I observe his red-rimmed eyes and pale skin as he finally nods. “Yeah, sure. Why not.”
I hand him a bottle, kick the fridge closed, and finally take a seat.
