Page 96 of Beckett

“Audra?” He drew out the name, tasting it. “Is that what she’s calling herself now? Always trying to be fucking artistic. Ivy. Vivienne. Whatever she wants to call herself, that bitch deserves everything coming to her.”

My hands clenched into fists. Through the glass, safe from the consequences, I wanted nothing more than to introduce his face to the concrete wall.

“So you admit you know her?”

“Know her? Yeah, I fucking know her. I wish I didn’t.”

“And you came to Garnet Bend looking for her?”

Reggie’s laugh was harsh, scraping. “Garnet Bend? Never heard of it. Whatever game you’re playing, I’m not interested.”

“No game. You’ve been systematically hunting Audra across three states. We have credit card records, surveillance footage, witness statements.”

Reggie slumped back in his chair. “Then your witnesses are lying, and your evidence is fake.”

Lachlan pulled out a tablet, swiping through images. “Gas station in Riverside. About an hour from here. You were there two days ago.”

“Lots of people go to gas stations.”

“The same day someone cut the brakes in the truck she was in.”

“Don’t know anything about that.”

The interrogation continued, Lachlan laying out evidence piece by piece, while Reggie deflected, denied, raged. He kept rubbing his temples, complaining about his headache, demanding water, demanding a doctor, demanding to be released. Classic deflection tactics, trying to derail the questioning.

But there was something off about it. This wasn’t how I’d expected him to act. All those months of careful stalking, the psychological torture he’d inflicted on Audra, the methodical way he’d tracked her across state lines—that took control. Patience. The ability to plan and execute without getting caught.

This guy was all emotion, no control. Sloppy. Obvious.

My phone buzzed. Travis calling. I silenced it immediately, not wanting to miss anything. Lachlan had moved to questions about the knife attack, the night Reggie had branded Audra with his sick message.

“Three months ago, you attacked Audra with a heated knife. Burned her neck.”

“That’s fucking sick. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“She has a noticeable scar.”

“So? Could have been anyone. Could have done it to herself.”

The casual dismissal of Audra’s trauma made me want to put my fist through the wall. But I forced myself to focus, to watch Reggie’s body language. He was leaning back now, arms crossed despite the cuffs, projecting defiance.

My phone buzzed again. Then again. Travis wasn’t giving up.

Lachlan pressed on, moving to the bridge incident. “Two days ago, a vehicle matching yours forced a truck Audra was in off the road, over a bridge. Both she and her companion nearly died.”

“Don’t know anything about any bridge.”

“You were identified at the scene.”

“Then someone’s lying. Maybe I need a lawyer.”

“That’s your right. Because once you lawyer up, I can’t help you anymore. Maybe we can work out a deal if you cooperate now.”

“There’s nothing to deal about because I didn’t do anything to that bitch except give her my attention. I don’t want anything more to do with her.”

More texts flooded my phone screen. Travis would have to fucking wait five more minutes. Lachlan had just thrown down the big card, the phrase that should crack Reggie wide open.

“Tell me about ‘eye for an eye,’ Reggie. Tell me about Jeremy.”