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“Special Agent Salem of the FBI.” Rapp looked down at the man. “Would you mind telling me what in the hell you were doing in my house?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Rapp looked at Coleman and jerked his head toward Dumond. “Give him the ID and have him run it.”
“I’m not going to ask you this again. What were you doing at my house? The one on the bay that you just came from five minutes ago?”
The man’s lone eye darted back and forth. “I’m telling you I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Last chance. Tell me why you were at my house and what you’re doing with Anna Rielly.”
“I told you I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Do you know how much trouble you can get in for kidnapping a federal…”
Before he could finish, Rapp reached down with his left hand and grabbed the man’s right index finger. At the same time, he increased the pressure on the man’s eye socket and slid his knee down to his forearm. With a quick yank, Rapp snapped the man’s finger. He let out an agonizing scream. Rapp took the opportunity to move the silencer from the man’s eye and stick it deep into his mouth. When the tip of the silencer reached his throat, he started to gag.
Looking for recognition in the man’s eyes, Rapp asked, “Do you know my friend Mario Lukas? The big fella you gunned down in College Park the other day?” Rapp saw the sign, a flicker of fear. Over his shoulder, Rapp asked, “Anything on that plate?”
“Nothing. It came up blank. I’m checking the name now.”
Looking over at Coleman, Rapp said, “This guy isn’t a fucking fed. If he was, he’d tell us something.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right.” Coleman looked down at the man and said, “Don’t make us torture you.”
Rapp withdrew his gun, and the man spat, “You two can go fuck yourselves. You are in deep trouble.”
Coleman smiled. “That was very original.” Reaching down, he grabbed the finger that Rapp had already broken and gave it a yank. The man started screaming again. Rapp took the opportunity to shove the silencer back in his mouth.
Dumond announced, “This guy is no fed. He’s nowhere in the database.”
Rapp removed the gun and asked, “What do you have to say for yourself now?”
The man gasped for air and said, “I’m undercover.”
“Yeah, right, dumb shit. You’re an undercover FBI agent posing as an FBI agent.” Rapp switched the Beretta from his right hand to his left and grabbed the man’s good index finger. Rapp didn’t even bother to ask a question this time. He just took the finger and snapped it like a twig.
The man screamed, “All right…all right! What do you want to know?”
“Is Anna Rielly in that house?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“She’s upstairs.”
“Is she all right?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me. Have you guys laid a hand on her?”
“No, I swear we haven’t.”
“Why is she there?”
“I don’t know.” Rapp didn’t like the answer, so he started for the finger. Before he got to it, he yelled, “We told her we were bringing her there to meet you.”
“Whose idea was that?’