Page 44 of Beckett (Warrior Security #2)

Beckett

Catching Reggie Garrison had ended up being anticlimactic as fuck.

That was the thought rolling through my head as I drove toward the sheriff’s station, the morning sun cutting through the windshield. Only a few hours since Travis had informed us of Reggie’s existence, and now he was in custody.

Travis had been right about Reggie’s arrogance.

It had made him sloppy. Overconfident. Sure that Audra was still out there on her own, jumping at shadows, too scared to trust anyone with her story.

The prick had been so certain of his power over her that he’d stopped bothering with basic precautions.

Lachlan’s call this morning had been brief, professional, but I’d heard the satisfaction underneath. Found the bastard napping in his car at a rest stop off Highway 93, a few miles out of town. Positive ID confirmed. In custody.

Just like that. No dramatic chase, no shootout, no last-minute escape. They’d walked up to his sedan while he slept off whatever bender he’d been on and slapped on the cuffs before he’d even fully woken up.

Anticlimactic as fuck.

But anticlimactic was fine with me if it meant Audra was safe. If it meant this was all finally over and she could stop looking over her shoulder every minute of every day.

Lachlan had asked if I wanted to be there for the questioning, more out of our lifelong friendship than because I’d bring anything useful to the situation.

We’d been friends since seventh grade, back when his biggest worry was whether Sarah Mitchell would dance with him at the spring formal and mine was whether I’d make the basketball team even though I was the shortest kid in our class.

The badge on his chest now didn’t change that history, and he knew I had a personal stake in this. Could tell what Audra meant to me even though I hadn’t spoken the words to my friend.

Lach wouldn’t go as far as letting me in the room with Reggie—that would compromise the case, give some defense attorney ammunition down the line. But watching through the two-way mirror, getting information in real time instead of filtered through reports later? I’d take it.

Audra hadn’t wanted to come, and that was for the best. The relief that had washed through her when I’d told her about the arrest had been something physical, visceral.

Her whole body had changed, like someone had cut invisible strings that had been holding her rigid for months.

She’d sagged against the kitchen counter at her cabin, one hand pressed to her chest like she was holding her heart in place.

“He’s really arrested? Really in custody?”

“Really,” I’d confirmed, watching tears slip silently down her cheeks. Happy tears, for once. “He’s going back to jail.”

She’d have to face him eventually, at the trial. Stand up in court and tell her story, look him in the eye and refuse to be his victim anymore. But that was months away. For now, she just needed to process the fact that her nightmare had an ending.

She and Lark were doing the morning chores at Pawsitive, feeding schedules and kennel cleaning, the routine tasks that had become Audra’s anchor these past weeks.

Lark had wrapped her in a fierce hug when she’d heard the news, the kind of embrace that said everything words couldn’t.

I’d left them discussing plans for the fundraiser next month, Audra’s voice already steadier, carrying something I’d never heard from her before—hope.

The sheriff’s station squatted on Main Street like it had for the past fifty years, all brick and small windows, built back when architecture was more about function than form. I parked beside Lachlan’s cruiser and headed inside, nodding to Deputy Richards at the front desk.

“Sheriff’s expecting you,” she said, buzzing me through without asking for ID. Small-town benefits.

I found Lachlan in the observation room adjacent to interrogation, standing in front of the two-way mirror with his arms crossed. He looked tired—the twins were probably still keeping him and Piper up half the night, even when there wasn’t an attempted murderer running around town—but satisfied.

“Beck.” He didn’t turn from the window. “Thanks for coming.”

“Are you kidding? Thanks for letting me.”

Through the glass, I got my first real look at Reggie Garrison. The man who’d terrorized Audra for over a year, who’d burned his sick message into her neck, who’d tried to kill us both just yesterday.

He looked…different than I’d expected. The mug shot Travis had shown last night was a skeletal man with hollow cheeks and that thousand-yard stare that came from hard time.

This version carried more weight, filled out through the shoulders and chest. Prison had carved him down to bones and rage, but freedom, and evidently chasing Audra, had let him rebuild.

His hair had grown out some from the prison buzz, though it was still thin enough to show scalp, and he was definitely going bald.

The beard was new too, patchy and unkempt.

Ugly as fuck, with that particular kind of ugliness that came from the inside out.

He sat cuffed to the table, shoulders rigid with fury rather than fear. Good. Let him be pissed. Let him stew in his own rage while the system he’d thought he could outsmart closed around him like a fist.

“Doing better on the outside than he did inside,” Lachlan observed, echoing my thoughts.

We both looked at the computer screen on the desk with Reggie’s mug shot and compared it with the man in front of us. Definitely the same guy. The fingerprints matched too, confirmed twice through the system.

“Already been Mirandized,” Lachlan continued. “Didn’t ask for an attorney.”

The ultimate sign of arrogance. Every criminal thought they were smart enough to talk their way out of trouble. The truly smart ones knew to shut up and lawyer up. Reggie apparently didn’t fall into that category.

“I’ll try to get a confession,” Lachlan said. “Tie this up with a pretty little bow. No room for reasonable doubt when this goes to trial.”

“You need anything from me?”

“Text me if you think of questions or notice anything I miss. Sometimes an outside perspective helps.”

I pulled out my phone, sending a quick message to Travis.

Reggie in custody. Starting interrogation now. Let the team know they can stand down.

His response came immediately.

Still digging through his digital footprint. Will send anything interesting.

I wanted to send Audra a text too, but she still didn’t have a phone. I needed to rectify that immediately. Instead, I sent one to Lark, asking her to let Audra know everything was going well.

Lachlan rolled his shoulders, slipping into what I recognized as his interrogation mode—calm, professional, with just enough edge to keep suspects off-balance. He was good at it, better than I would ever be. I’d want to go straight for the throat. Lachlan knew how to play the long game.

“Here we go,” he said and pushed through the door into the interrogation room.

Through the speaker system, I heard the door close with finality. Reggie’s head snapped up, eyes tracking Lachlan’s movement with the hypervigilance of someone who’d learned to watch for threats in prison.

Lachlan settled into the chair across from him, movements deliberate and unhurried. “I’m Sheriff Calloway. We need to discuss why you’re in Garnet Bend.”

“This is bullshit!” Reggie exploded immediately, spit flying. “You drugged me! I don’t even know how I got to that rest stop! Last thing I remember was—” He paused, confusion flickering across his face. “Your storm troopers drugged me and dragged me here! This is some kind of setup!”

His voice had a nasal quality that made my skin crawl, high and whining like a teenager who’d been caught with porn.

“No one drugged you, Mr. Garrison. You were arrested on multiple warrants, including stalking, assault, and attempted murder.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! My head is killing me because of whatever you people did to me!”

Reggie pressed his palms against his temples, face contorting. The headache was probably real—looked like a hangover to me. The sheen of sweat on his forehead, the slight tremor in his hands, the way the fluorescent lights made him squint.

“Perhaps you had too much to drink last night?” Lachlan suggested mildly. “The officers noted empty beer cans in your vehicle.”

“I want to sue! All of you! This is false imprisonment! Police brutality!”

“You’re free to file a complaint. After we discuss why you’ve been stalking Audra Cartland for the past fourteen months.”

At Audra’s name, something shifted in Reggie’s expression. The rage didn’t diminish, but it focused, sharpened into something more personal.

“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.”