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Livvy slowly walked into her room, shut the door, and turned on the light. It was a spacious bedroom with a queen bed, a rustic wooden dresser and nightstands, and a walk-in closet and bathroom attached.
She needed to rest, but all she wanted was to be with Jensen. How would he react when he found out Treven was not in prison but running around free? The jerk was probably consorting with his mum and planning how to kidnap Livvy and take over the kingdom of Augustine. She loathed the Rindlesbachers and their selfish and power-hungry minds.
Her body thrummed with a weird mixture of excitement from being close to Jensen and staying in his house and nerves about what Treven would try next.
Jensen would protect her.
I promise he’ll never touch you again.
She prayed he could keep that promise.
Chapter Ten
Jensen smiled to himself as he changed into a button-down shirt, tie, and slacks, then strode down to his office and retrieved a Magnum pistol and a side holster from his safe. If only he could stay here and talk to Livvy, hold her so she felt safe, but he had to confront Treven. Tomorrow he’d spend the entire day with Livvy. Would she play the piano for him? He’d almost revealed to her that he’d bought that piano with her in mind. Lieutenant Yost’s interruption was annoying but probably for the best.
He spoke with Lieutenant Yost about his objective, and she reassured him they’d keep Miss Moser safe. She stared hungrily into his eyes, clearly hoping he’d say something personal. They’d gone to dinner half a dozen times when she was working at the military facility under Chad. When she’d been transferred to his department with a promotion to lieutenant, he’d kept a professional distance and started calling her Lieutenant Yost even though he was usually more casual with the people who served directly with him. She’d never said anything, but she glanced at him a lot. Maybe he should’ve explained initially that he didn’t date employees and that Livvy had long held his interest. It felt a little late now. He said goodbye and hurried out of the house.
Driving quickly down the mountain road and past Traverse to the prison out in the fields north of town, he found himself thinking about Livvy’s irresistible combination of sweetness and bravery instead of the upcoming confrontation with Treven. Dwelling on Livvy would surely give him more motivation to get the information he needed out of the guy—like where their money was coming from, his mother’s whereabouts, and the identities of his henchmen. They hadn’t been able to get a peep out of the slime yet, but Jensen planned on changing that tonight. Then he’d have the prison guards move Treven to the highest-security cell. The guy was done threatening Livvy.
Pulling into the prison, the gates swung open and uniformed officers saluted as he passed. He parked in the employee parking lot. It was almost one-thirty in the morning when the employee door swung wide, held by a stiff-looking guard. Jensen entered the building and was greeted by the shift commander, Captain Rhodes. They shook hands.
“The prisoner is waiting, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Locked doors popped open, and men saluted as they walked down halls. The prison was quiet this early in the morning, but the guards had known he was coming and showed it with respect and him not even having to wait for a door to buzz open. These men knew their job, and they did it well.
Captain Rhodes stopped outside the interrogation room. “Where would you like me, sir?”
“Watch from the observation room and see what details you can pick up. I might trade you places at some point. Who knows how long he’ll hold out.”
“I’ll be watching and awaiting my turn, sir.” Captain Rhodes opened and held the door for him.
Jensen strode in.
Treven Rindlesbacher was waiting, his hands cuffed in front of him, his legs manacled. He stood between two guards. Both men saluted sharply when Jensen walked in. Jensen nodded to them and focused on the prisoner.
The blond man was a couple years younger than Jensen, stocky, and had the bearing and twisted confidence of a bully who won every fight.
Jensen sat in a cushioned chair and gestured to the hard seat across the small table from him, gearing up for a confrontation that would give him some answers. He’d never physically torture anybody, but he would win this verbal battle.
The guards helped Treven settle into the seat. He rested his cuffed hands on the table in front of him and slouched slightly forward, as if anxious to talk to Jensen. The guards stepped back against the wall, staring holes into the back of Treven’s head. If he so much as raised his voice at Jensen, they’d be on him.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Chief?” Treven asked.
Jensen stared at the man. Treven was smart, too smart for his own good, and he loved taunting and trying to get under Jensen’s skin. He always wore an ugly sneer when they spoke. It had been over a month since Jensen had interrogated him, but he knew Treven and his motivations well.
There was something off about the question. It was the middle of the night, but he’d never known Treven not to try to rattle him, claim he was beating him, and gear up for the battle. Tonight he seemed unconcerned and almost pleasant.
Jensen blinked and leaned forward, cold tingles prickling his skin. All of Livvy’s assertions that Treven had come for her earlier tonight pinged around in his head. He’d felt uncomfortable dismissing her concerns, but he’d known it was impossible for Treven to escape.
Unless…
Jensen stared deeply at him and instructed, “Say something else.”
“Excuse me? You woke me up in the middle of the night, Chief. I figured you must have a lot to say.”
He was trying to be cocky and unruffled, but there was an odd quiver in his voice. It was pitched differently than Jensen remembered, and he’d interviewed him or listened to interrogations often enough to recognize his voice.
