Bayou Sunset (Agents of HIS #4)

Chapter One

“MAYBE WE SHOULD waterboard him.”

Steve “Romeo” Smith considered his teammate Brad Hamilton’s advice. As Chief Interrogator at Hamilton Investigation and Security, or HIS for short, Romeo knew the family’s rules on interrogations, as did Brad, who had created said rules.

Waterboarding was forbidden. However, in this instance, the tango—a suspected terrorist—didn’t know they wouldn’t torture him physically. A little mind fuck, though, was not out of the question.

Romeo had mastered skills beyond a traditional field agent as a former, deeply entrenched FBI interrogator. While waterboarding hadn’t been one of them, he had put into practice many questionable techniques to retrieve the information necessary to save lives. Techniques even the Hamilton brothers wouldn’t allow him to conduct due to the severity of the actions utilized. So, he had to retrieve info the old-fashioned way—with questioning, deceit, and intimidation.

While not his and Brad’s first rodeo together, he would play along with the Hamilton brother. Romeo narrowed his eyes at the suspect, then slowly nodded in agreement to Brad’s suggestion.

Brad laughed maniacally and slipped from the room, leaving Romeo alone with the tango.

Bernie Jackson, the tango, had attempted to bomb one of the radio stations owned by Kate Hamilton, Romeo’s big boss’s wife. Sure, they should have turned him over to the police after they caught him in the act. And they eventually would. Right now, though, they needed to know who sent Bernie. In their brief investigation, it became apparent that Bernie wasn’t talented enough to create a bomb. Plus, there were no bomb-making items at Bernie’s residence but a deposit of $10,000 into his checking account.

Romeo noted Bernie’s sweat—a sure sign of his nervousness. “What be wrong, Bernie? Are ya afraid of a little water?” He smiled. What he had been told gave the recipient a grim outlook.

“You can’t do this. I’ve done nothing wrong. Please, you have to let me go,” Bernie insisted as he struggled in the chair he had been zip-tied to. All he managed to do was move the chair around, which didn’t bother Romeo because he knew it had to hurt where the ties touched skin every time Bernie struggled.

Standing, Romeo stretched like nothing phased him. After a fake yawn, he said, “Sure, we can. Remember, no police, no rules. We can do as we wish.” It was a lie, but he’d learned to lie easily after years of this work. Sometimes, he hated that he had mastered that skill, but he kept the deceit in the interrogation room.

“Help! Help me! They’re trying to kill me.”

Romeo closed his eyes and slowly shook his head as if to tsk the man. “I’ve already told ya this room is sound-proofed. All ya doing is giving me a headache. Ya don’t want to see me angry, do ya, Bernie?”

With a whimper, Bernie shook his head. “I can’t tell you. He said he’d kill me. Please, you have to let me go.”

Well, well. At least Bernie told them he had been hired. It was funny what fake threats would do to a man, especially one delivering trouble. Romeo hovered over the shaking man. “Who will kill ya? Besides me, if ya don’t tell me who hired ya?”

“I— You— I—” Bernie stumbled out and fell silent. He stopped struggling and dropped his head in defeat.

Romeo narrowed his eyes at the man. “Tell us who hired ya, and we’ll protect ya against him.” So far, all they knew was that it was a male.

Bernie looked up, wouldn’t look Romeo in the eye, and shook his head. “No, I can’t,” he cried.

With a stone-cold heart that he wore during interrogations, Romeo stood there watching the tears slide down Bernie’s face. He didn’t care that the man was scared. The man was guilty as shit and could have killed others. It had been pure luck that the security guard caught him placing the bomb before Bernie could arm it.

Hearing heavy footsteps coming toward the room, Romeo thinned his lips. “Last chance. Brad be on his way back to take ya to be waterboarded.” To make things worse, he leaned down to Bernie’s ear and whispered, “It be a specialty of ours.”

As expected, Bernie peed his pants. Romeo stood and stepped back as the puddle pooled at the man’s feet. He hated to scare someone to that extreme, but it was sometimes necessary.

Romeo headed toward the door to open it for Brad. As he took the steps, he mentally counted: one, two, three, four.

“Okay, okay,” Bernie said with a defeated tone. “Okay.”

Romeo smiled, then forced a nonchalant look before turning back to Bernie. “ Oui ?”

“First, you have to promise you’ll protect me,” Bernie demanded.

With a quizzical raise of an eyebrow, Romeo nodded shortly. “If ya tell us the truth.” He angled his head toward the door. “Ya have until Brad returns to spill ya guts.”

Eyes wide, Bernie cried, “Wait!”

They had this man, and it hadn’t been that difficult. Once they had the information, they would protect him, but HIS would also turn him over to the police after they caught the mastermind.

Brad walked into the room with a grim look on his face.

Romeo cocked his head in question.

“You need to come with me,” Brad said to Romeo.

Staring at Brad, Romeo couldn’t believe Brad had deviated from their well-developed tactic. He was supposed to enter and state the tub was ready.

“Now,” Brad demanded.

Disbelief and curiosity wormed their way into Romeo. What in the world was going on? Brad had to know he hadn’t completely broken Bernie, as there hadn’t been enough time for the information to flow.

Realizing Brad would not budge on his demand, Romeo returned to Bernie. “I’ll be right back, and ya had best give me the information I want.” Without waiting for Bernie to respond, he turned and followed Brad out of the room. Once the door closed behind them, he said, in a low voice, “What the fuck? He be ready to tell me who be behind the bomb-making.”

“I’ll finish that up. You have a phone call.”

Romeo stopped in his tracks. They had interrupted an interrogation for a phone call. “Ya got to be shitting me.”

“Nope.”

“ Merde . It had best be the president of the fucking United States for ya to interrupt me right now.”

Brad shook his head. “No. It’s your mom.”

Unfuckingbelievable. Why hadn’t Brad just taken a message? They were seriously busy now. Yanking the portable phone Brad held out, Romeo turned away. Trying to keep his anger at Brad from showing in his voice, he took a deep breath before he answered the phone. His mom would understand. She knew he had an important job and couldn’t always talk when she called. Because of that, he made sure to call her back.

“Hi, Mamou . Can I call ya back? I be a bit busy right now.” His mind turned back to Bernie and the information he needed. The longer they let Bernie stew, the better the chance he would realize his dilemma and clam up again.

His mother wept as she spoke. “Steve, ya Papa had a heart attack. I need ya to come home.”

Fear clawed at him. All thoughts of Bernie and his position at HIS disappeared from his mind. “How—” He cleared his throat. “How he be?” His father had been the epitome of health when he had last been home. Then he closed his eyes. That had been too long ago—way too long. He spoke with his mother regularly but hadn’t seen her in years.

“He be fine. I just need ya to come home.”

Merde . Although it was the answer he hoped to hear, he knew his mother, whose wording meant his papa was anything but fine. “I’ll be there tonight.” He clicked off the call, handed it back to Brad, and walked away without a backward glance. His mind spun on getting an airline ticket, getting packed, and getting the hell back to Louisiana and his family. And the woman he couldn’t have but dreamed about all…the…fucking…time.