Page 21 of Velvet Chains

“Let’s go,” Hayes said.

I stepped out. Head high. Shoulders back. Heart pounding like a war drum in my chest.

This was the beginning of something. Not the end.

The only question was who’d still be standing by the time it was over.

They brought me to a back room by walking down a long hallway. I noted that they tried to keep me away from their other coworkers, which felt strange, but I didn’t question it yet. When we finally got to the interrogation room, Hayes sat in front of me. “Fitz, get our guest here some coffee. You want coffee, right, Callahan?”

“Oh, yes,” I said, stretching my legs out under the table like I was settling in for a casual brunch and not, you know, an FBI interrogation.

Fitzgerald gave me a long look before slipping out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him.

Hayes didn’t waste time.

“You know, for a guy who just confessed to murder, you’re pretty relaxed,” he said, folding his hands over a thin manila folder.

“I’m Irish,” I said. “I’ve been stressed since I was born.”

Hayes didn’t laugh. Didn’t even crack a smile.

He opened the folder and slid a single photo across the table. A grainy, high-contrast image. Looked like it had been taken in low light, maybe with a long lens. Ruby’s front porch. A figure—me—blurry but unmistakable, standing too close to her front door.

“This was taken two nights ago,” Hayes said. “You know how we got it?”

I didn’t answer.

“A neighbor. They thought you were casing the place. Sent it to the tip line. We didn’t think much of it until a femur turned up in the river.”

I kept my mouth shut. I knew this game. Let them fill the silence. Let them sweat.

Hayes leaned forward. “I believe you killed Mickey Russell. But I don’t think you did it out of the kindness of your heart. And I don’t think you acted alone.”

Still, I said nothing.

“What I think,” Hayes continued, voice going colder, “is that you’ve been using Ruby Marquez as a shield. Maybe even as an accomplice. I think you’ve been inside her house more than once. I think you might be sleeping there. Or maybe just screwing her to keep her quiet. Either way, it’s going to look bad.”

I let the smile spread slowly across my face. “You jealous, Hayes?”

Thatdidcrack his composure. Just for a second. His jaw ticked.

“Are we just telling each other fairy tales?” I asked. “A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…”

“Don’t be cute, Callahan. We have evidence.”

I sighed. “I plead my fifth amendment right not to incriminate myself.”

“Work with us,” Hayes said. “And we can help you. You won’t be incriminating yourself.”

Fitzgerald walked in the room with a cup of coffee.

“Thanks, Fitz,” I said. “You always know how to make a man feel welcome.”

Hayes leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “We’re not here to rattle your cage, Callahan. We just want answers.”

I sighed. “I plead my fifth amendment right not to incriminate myself. I want to call my lawyer.”

“If you call your lawyer, that’s your last chance. You won’t be able to get us to help at all. And we can help,” Hayes said. “You said you didn’t do it on purpose, right?”