He'd never felt trapped before this case. How many men had died because a woman Nathan once knew wanted to punish him? How many more men would have died if he hadn't shot her?
Who would tell her parents?
Why did everything he touched end up tarnished and ruined?
There were no answers.
He parked and went into the building. He went to his office and unlocked the top file drawer where he kept his personal files. He had a box of notebooks that no one but him could read. There was a file. One that didn't officially exist. The file that had cost Drew his job with the TBI. He took those out and went to find the dick agent who'd came to his town and turned his life upside down.
Deputy Marcus Wendt followed him from the front office back to same interrogation room he'd left only a few hours ago. Agent Morgan sat at the table with a fuck-ton of files spread out around him. He looked like shit.
Somehow that made Nathan feel so much better.
"Am I still a suspect?" he demanded. He was tired of being treated like an interloper in his own office.
"Excuse me?" Asshole jumped in his seat. He hadn't heard Nathan arrive. Maybe he'd been on the verge of a nap. He looked like he could use one.
"Are you still investigating me?" Nathan rephrased the question. He wasn't sitting down with the asshole. He was done.
"Circumstances … " Morgan fished through a mound of papers.
"Circumstances, my ass," Marcus said, joining Nathan in the doorway. "It was a frame job any fool could see from a mile away. A blind fool. You have nothing on Nathan. Not one damned thing."
Morgan tossed the file he was holding down and leaned back in his chair. "Fuck," he said, scrubbing his face with his hands. "Jesus, just sit the fuck down. I need to … "
"Not without a lawyer," Nathan said. "Clear me, or we're waiting for my lawyer."
"Fuck." Morgan stood up, sending the chair slamming into the wall behind him. "They said you were a hard-ass. I didn't believe them. Jesus. Fuck. Fine. You're in the clear. There's no evidence that ties you to that … Jesus. What the hell do we even call that … cave of carnage?"
"I don't care what you call it. It's not my case. I'm off it. And I'm officially on vacation." Nathan finally went into the room.
He slid the photos around on the table. He could feel the words on his back. He could feel the knife slicing in. Slowly. So very slowly. He flipped the photos over. "It's not all that simple to cut into human flesh. Even with the sharpest knife. There's no way to get clean lines. Not without a scalpel or something that is meant to slice flesh like butter. It takes a long time to form a letter. Or a symbol. It's probably easier if the person is dead. I wouldn't know. I know how long it takes and how it feels and what it smells like when you shit yourself because you lose control of your body and no one can hear you scream while some maniac carves words in your flesh. I know what those men must have felt. I've been there. You were right about one thing: I couldn't stomach it then, and I can't stomach it now. But I'll tell you one thing: I've never killed anyone outside of the line of duty. I've never once entertained the notion to inflict that shit on someone. I hate having to take a life. Even in the line of duty. Not anymore. Maybe not ever again."
He tossed the file folder to the agent and stood back to wait. Morgan looked startled but he didn't disappoint. He flipped through the report and the photos and after the fourth one, he turned a shade of green Nathan hadn't seen on a human in a long time. "Jesus," the agent wheezed, the file trembling in his hands. "How did you keep this … ? Jesus. Walker. That's why he left the TBI, isn't it? He was covering this up?"
"He thought he was protecting me." Nathan stood rigid. He stared at a spot on the wall just above Asshole's head. "I don't know if it was worth the cover up. I don't know if it saved any of us. Sometimes I think it would have been better if the truth had come out back then. I was raped. I was mutilated. By one of my deputies. There's not enough plastic surgery or tattoo ink in the world to erase what he did to me. And this case opened it all up again."
He shoved his hands in his pockets and clenched his fists. He couldn't see anything past the tip of his own nose. "She was once my wife. She tried to kill the man I love. She may have killed another man who I love. I need to know how he is. Is there any news on Agent Walker's condition?"
Morgan slowly came into focus. He was silent and that wasn't a good thing. Marcus held the file, he'd never seen that shade of gray on the man's face. "Nathan?" Marcus said softly, but Nathan shook his head. He didn't want to hear whatever he was going to say. He didn't need pity. He sure as hell didn't need lecturing.