“I told you where to find Nancy’s body. Just do an autopsy,” Jack said. “She must have died from natural causes. Possibly from head trauma. She hit her head pretty badly in the crash. Or perhaps she starved to death.”
“People don’t starve to death so easily.”
“I know. But Nancy was so thin, I think she might have had an eating disorder. I didn’t notice at first, on account of her thick sweater and her plump cheeks. But when I carried her, it felt as though I was carrying a small child.” Jack paused and shook his head. “And when I saw her naked, I noticed she was all skin and bones. Her hipbones poked from her skin, and rainwater had gathered by her collarbones. Two puddles of water.”
Agent Coleman frowned. “We’re talking about Nancy Callahan?”
“I don’t know her last name. We were all on a first-name-only basis,” Jack said, and shrugged. “I’m not even sure her first name was Nancy. As I said, she suffered from head trauma, and at times, she appeared delusional.”
Agent Smith looked startled. Then he opened his briefcase and took out a web tablet. At first, he typed rapidly, but he suddenly froze for a moment, as though he wasn’t sure what choice to make. He glanced briefly at Detective Sophia Houllier before he looked at the screen again. At first, he had an awkward expression, but eventually, he tapped the screen, and placed the tablet on the table.
“Is that her?”
Jack’s jaw dropped as he looked at the screen, his eyes wide.
On the screen was a picture of a young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties, even though the text on her T-shirt indicated she’d just turned eighteen. Her plump cheeks emphasized her huge smile, and her eyes were focused on the object in her hands: A ridiculously oversized plastic replica of male genitalia.
“Yes, that’s her, but she must have lost a lot of weight. She looks nothing like herself in that picture. She must have developed an eating disorder.” Jack frowned at Agent Smith. “She was a porn star?”
“She was an adult actress,” Coleman responded and smiled wide, his bright teeth in sharp contrast to his face.
“But she wasn’t a star?” Jack said.
“No, she wasn’t a…” Agent Coleman trailed off, and his face grew red.
Once again, Agent Smith appeared to be biting down on his lips. Agent Coleman glanced at Detective Sophia Houllier, and as their eyes met, his face grew even redder. Then, he looked at Jack with accusing eyes.
“Do you even know how many people you’ve killed?” Coleman asked. “Do you, Box?” Agent Coleman’s superior smile was back.
Jack’s jaw dropped once more.
“That’s right. I know all about you. They should’ve kept you looked up in that loony bin,” Coleman said. “So, how many people have you killed? Or have you lost count recently?”
Jack rose to his feet and put his hands on the table top. His enormous biceps bulked through the tight sweater he wore. “Call me that name one more time, and see what happens.”
“That sounded like a threat to a federal agent,” Coleman said and looked at Smith. “Wouldn’t you agree, Agent Smith?”
Agent Smith remained silent while Agent Coleman looked at him as if seeking some sort of insurance. The two unidentified men in black suits rose from their seats, and judging by their posture, they appeared to be ready to engage in a fight. For the first time that day, Detective Sophia Houllier looked at Jack—or at least at his profile.
Jack kept staring at Agent Coleman. “I dare you.”
Just then, Agent Smith rose to his feet and grabbed Agent Coleman by the elbow. “May I speak to you outside, Agent Coleman?”
The two agents then left the conference room.
Jack looked at the picture on the screen once more, and once again, he had a look of resignation. He appeared like a man with a broken heart or like a father who recently learned his only daughter had decided to pursue a career in pornography. He flipped over the web tablet and pushed it further away.
Shortly after, Agent Smith returned to the room, this time alone.
“Sorry about that,” Smith said. “Between you and me, I think Agent Coleman is a little sensitive about his height—Among other things.”
Jack shrugged. “Are we done here or what?”
“I know you didn’t kill Nancy. I could tell by your reaction, and I’m sure the autopsy will reveal there was no foul play,” Smith said, and sounded sincere. “I’m sorry for insinuating otherwise.”
“Okay.” Jack nodded once.
“I can only imagine what you’ve been through for the past week,” Smith added. “It must have been hard not knowing whether help was coming, and it was freezing cold—”
“And Kevin wouldn’t let you borrow his jacket, and so on,” Jack interrupted. “I get it. You’re the good cop?”
“No, of course not.” Smith smiled, and glanced across the room. “There are no good cops. You know that. We’re all bad.”
Agent Smith chuckled, and the two men in black suits and matching ties smiled briefly, and then shook their heads slightly.
“You’re a federal agent,” Jack said in a brusque tone.
“That’s right.”
Smith seemed proud of the remark, and smiled Jack’s way. But suddenly, his face changed, and his smile quickly vanished.
“You think you can hide in Canada? Is that it? I can have you extradited in no time,” Smith said, and added a smile. “That is if my Canadian colleagues, for some strange reason don’t charge you with mass murder.”
Jack looked across the room at the two men in suits and then he glanced at Detective Sophia Houllier once more.
“Was it an accident?” Smith asked. “Did you fight over his blazer, and he slipped and fell? Is that it? If it was just an accident, then I can help you.”
“I didn’t kill Kevin!” Jack yelled.
“Calm down. I’m just trying to help you.”
“Sure, you are.”
“Either way, you’re going to jail.” Smith shrugged his shoulders. “So, why not come clean and tell us where you hid Kevin’s body?”
Jack looked confused, and seemed puzzled by Agent Smith’s question.
“Either way, you are going to prison,” Smith said in, a diplomatic tone. “The only question is on what side of the boarder.”
“I want an attorney.”
“I told you, this is a debriefing. You can’t have an attorney present.”
“In that case, we’re done.” Jack rose.
“Sit down,” Smith said in a tone of authority.
“No, we’re done.” Jack seemed about to leave the table.
“Wait! I want to show you something.”
Agent Smith quickly grabbed the web tablet, and swiped the screen several times before he placed the tablet on the table for Jack to see.
“Remember him?”
Jack remained standing and briefly glanced at the screen. “He was dead when we found him.”
Agent Smith appeared to be studying Jack’s facial expression. “I’m sure he was, but why did you tried to conceal his body?”
“What are you talking about?” Jack looked confused. “I told you where to find his body. And the ring was in his pants pocket.”
“That’s not Andrew Townsend,” Smith said.
Jack looked at the screen once more, and then he sat down, and kept staring at the screen with wide eyes. On the screen was a picture of the back of a man’s head with blood running down his neck, coloring the collar of his white shirt red. The man appeared to be wearing a black jacket. He was on his stomach, his face against the forest ground.
“Is this from the crash site?” Jack asked.
“Do you recognize him?”
“No,” Jack responded. “Is this from the crash site?”