All semblance of professionalism abandoned her. All of her training, all of her skills with de-escalation and negotiation disappeared within the span of a heartbeat. She became someone else. Someone willing to risk her career. Someone willing to kill.
She leaned forward. “What the hell did you just say to me?”
“I get to see the girl or no deal.”
Sun was drowning in apprehension so thick she could hardly see straight. She’d been on the force for almost ten years and this man reduced her to an unstable powder keg in a matter of seconds.
Tears seared the backs of her eyes as she looked into the dark depths of gray in his.
“Apple,” he began, but reconsidered when her glare turned murderous. “Sheriff, it’s not what you think.”
Something hit the door. Or, more precisely, someone. It opened and Quincy was by her side at once, trying to ease her away from Wynn. She held the pen in her fist like she was going to use it to shank the man across from her.
“Get back, Ravinder,” Quincy said, coaxing Sun to do the same.
“I understand,” he said, ignoring Quincy. “You need to sleep on it.”
“The only thing I need to sleep on is how to make sure you never make it out of prison alive.”
“I didn’t hear that,” Quincy said to Wynn. He looked at a guard that had hurried in, quickly followed by a second. “You didn’t hear that.”
One corner of Wynn’s mouth rose. “He was right about you. You’re amazing.” Before she could comment, he added, “I’m willing to take you on your word. You meet the first two conditions, I’ll sign a confession and tell you everything on the contingency that I’ll get to see your daughter at some point in the next year.”
She felt a tear slip past her lashes as question upon question ran rampant through her brain. She settled on the most predominant. “What makes you think I would ever agree to such a demand?”
Wynn shrugged. “I just thought maybe she’d like to know who her father is.”
The breath in her lungs couldn’t have fled any faster if he’d punched her in the gut.
A guard leaned down until he was between them. He focused on Sun and said, “You two need to back down or this interview is over.”
Quincy planted her ass back in her chair with a firm push, and Wynn eased into his. Satisfied, the guard straightened but didn’t dare leave the room.
Sun forced herself to calm. To unclench her teeth. “Fine. I’ll bring my daughter to see you.”
“What?” The question was from Quincy who stared at her, appalled.
“I’ll bring her to see you as soon as you tell me why.”
Quincy sat beside her, but he wasn’t happy about the direction the conversation had taken in his absence.
A sadness seemed to come over Wynn when he said, “I’ve been told she resembles her grandmother.”
Sun knew instinctively he was not referring to the carefree creature known as Elaine Freyr. “You don’t get to play with my daughter’s life. To use her as a pawn. I’ll make it my life’s mission to see that you rot in here until you die first.”
It was his turn to let his emotions overtake him. He stood and turned his back on her.
The two guards tensed. One of them put a hand on his arm as though to subdue him if need be, but he remained calm.
“Can I speak to you alone?” he asked. When he turned back to her, his expression had changed. A vulnerability shone through. A vulnerability Sun didn’t believe existed in a man like him. He was a good actor, she’d give him that.
Still, that curiosity burned too hot and too bright for her to ignore. “Quincy?” she asked.
He hesitated but decided not to push the point. The guards followed him out, only they didn’t close the door this time. They did, however, give the two some semblance of privacy by walking a few feet away. Quincy crossed his arms over his chest and stood closer, refusing to give the man too much space.
“Ask yourself this, Sunshine. Why would I want my conviction overturned if I’m about to confess to killing my own brother? I’m going to rot in a cell either way.”
“You just said you were rescuing me. You probably wouldn’t get any time for defending yourself and saving my life. I doubt the DA would even pursue it.”
He nodded and dropped his gaze. “I didn’t think of it that way.”
She didn’t believe him. He was far too smart not to have thought of that angle.
“They were friends of mine,” he said after a moment. “The couple I was convicted of killing. They were friends and I’ve spent almost a dozen years in prison while the person who really killed them has walked around free. They deserve better.”
He was good. “Do you know who did it?”
He sat down and wiped at some imaginary dirt on his palm. “Yes.”
“Did you tell your lawyer?”
“No. I didn’t know then. I know now.”
“Why not just have him taken care of ?”
“Too easy. I want him inside. I want him to be in fear for his life every single day for as long as he lives.”
“Like you are?”
He scoffed. “Not hardly, but that’s not the point. Most people don’t thrive in here like I have.”
“Are you her father?”
The question slipped out before she could stop it. She didn’t know what to believe at this point. Even if he did know everything he was claiming, he could still have been involved in her abduction. Maybe the plan went south and he and Kubrick fought. It made a lot more sense than his galloping to her rescue.
He cast her a sideways glance. If her question surprised him, he didn’t show it. “No,” he said softly.
Not that he would tell her if he were. “Tell me who is and you have my word I’ll do everything in my power to get your conviction overturned.”
“’Fraid I can’t do that, apple blossom. I have to have something to bargain with.”
“You mean something to hold over my head.”
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”
“Even if it were possible, even if I found the evidence needed to get the case reopened, it would take years to get your conviction overturned.”
“I told you, I have complete faith in you.”
Sun watched as he scrubbed the palm of his hand with a thumb, the clinking of the metal cuffs not unlike the sound of the metal chains she wore for five days when she was seventeen. Her chains were heavier. The sound deeper. They’d echoed on the walls of the dark shed. But somehow the sound was still similar.
She shook out of the memory and decided on one more test. “Whose knife was it?”
“I’m sorry?”
“The knife you killed Kubrick with. Whose was it?”
“Mine.”
“That’s how you cut my ropes?”
He took a moment to study her, probably catching onto the fact that she was testing him again, and said, “I don’t remember. But I’ll give it to you the minute I’m transferred. Even more incentive to get me moved.”
He must not have known about the ID bracelet. She did wonder how he would explain Kubrick’s clutching a bracelet with Levi’s name on it, but that little piece of evidence was not common knowledge and she didn’t want to tip him off.