He hoped the heat disguised the flush he felt creeping up his face. It wasn’t that he didn’t have news, but it wasn’t good news. “Sorry.”
Jim swiped his finger through the ring of condensation his drink had left on the picnic table. Jessica finished her hot dog, but picked at her fries. The silence of the meal was awkward, but small talk would have made it worse.
He tapped his fingers on the table and tilted his head to work a kink out of his neck. The sun beat down on the pavement creating shimmering waves of heat. His prediction that it wouldn’t be hot in Chicago in September had been a faulty one, but that was par for the course lately. He sighed. It hadn’t occurred to him that Taylor would have no idea it was his birthday. He hadn’t meant to cause pain, but he’d seen it flash across the other man’s face when he’d learned the date.
Jim ate his last fry and gathered his wrappers, tossing them on the tray. Jessica finished eating, and now sat staring across the parking lot, her drink straw in her mouth as she sipped.
“You done with that?” Jim indicated her meal and she nodded. He took the tray and tossed all the garbage in the trash can next to the building. When he turned back to the table, he found Jessica watching him, her expression intense. He had been right. She had questions and the grace period was over.
“So, where is he? Where are you guys torturing him?”
Jim paused and tried to hide his surprise before resuming his seat at the table. He had to admire her directness. Maybe he’d been too quick to criticize Officer Daly’s interview. “Excuse me? Who said anything about torture?”
She shook her head. “I’m sure you’ll deny it, but I know who you are. I’ve been around long enough to know a Fed of some sort. If you were FBI, you’d identify yourself as such. That leaves CIA or DOD.
The lady was smart, he had to grant her that. Jim shrugged, but didn’t admit to who he worked for. “He’s in a brig in South Carolina.” He narrowed his eyes. “But nobody is torturing anyone.”
She snorted and shook her head, her face twisted into a smirk. “He’s innocent, you know.” Jessica’s chin went up, challenging him to contradict her.
Anger burned in her eyes and he let her statement hang there for a long moment before crossing his arms on the table and leaning towards her. “What makes you say that?”
He’d found that the best way to get answers was just allow the other person to talk. If pointed in the right direction, they often spilled more information than they intended.
“Because I have evidence that what he said about the pictures is true.”
That was the last thing Jim expected her to claim, and he cocked his head. “You’re serious?”
Jessica slid the envelope in front of him. “Look for yourself.”
Jim glanced at her before pulling two pictures out of the envelope. He tried to control his expression, but shock pulsed through him as Taylor’s image stared back at him. He recalled that interrogation. They had only done that particular position one time. “Where’d you get these?” Damn it. There must be a leak on his team. It had to be a still from the video because there were no other cameras in the room. This was highly classified material. If these stills ever found their way to the press, heads would roll. Whoever had sent them either had top clearance or knew someone who did. Jim clenched his jaw to keep from spewing his anger at Jessica.
“I got it from one of Mark’s cameras. His belongings were tossed out of his loft when he was evicted.” She emphasize the last word, her tone accusing.
“I just happened to be passing by and grabbed what I could. The rest is all gone.” Jessica took the picture of Taylor seated in the rowing position and looked at it for several seconds, her face awash in disgust. “Is this how you get people to confess? If I did something like that, I’d be brought up on charges.” She slapped the picture on the table in front of him.
“I follow the guidelines set for me.” He shook his head and tried to repress the urge to walk away. The last thing he needed was condemnation. “You know, we get blamed when something happens, for not knowing, yet when we try to do our best to gather important information, we’re labeled barbarians.” Jim stabbed his finger down on the picture. “This isn’t some goddamn game we’re playing, Bishop.” He waved a hand towards the tall buildings a few blocks over. “This city could be next for all we know. And maybe your boyfriend has information that could prevent innocent people from being killed.”
“So the ends justify the means?” Her voice was incredulous.
“Damn straight. It’s justified when it decreases the harmful impact on citizens.”
She flushed and he bit back a smirk. She wasn’t dealing with some Neanderthal government flunky. If she wanted to throw that threadbare expression at him, he could quote Machiavelli right back at her.
Jessica put both hands flat on the table and leaned towards him. “That’s…bull-” She broke off as a couple of customers passed on their way to the order window. When she tried again, her voice was quieter, but just as angry. “That’s bullshit and you know it. What kind of information are you going to get from someone who’s in so much pain he’d name his own mother as a terrorist if it meant that the torture would end?”
Jim had no answer to that and conceded she had a point. He had harbored his own doubts about the authenticity of some of the information gathered, but there had been some proven successes with some prisoners using the same methods used on Taylor. One success might mean that there would be more, and nobody would know who would give up that important bit of information. He leaned his elbows on the table and rubbed his temples, then dropped his hands and let his anger drain away. “I understand your concern. Believe it or not, I do have Taylor’s health in mind and try to make sure that there’s no permanent damage.”
Jessica recoiled. “Oh my God. You mean you’re the one who actually does these things to him?” She paled.
This was not going as planned. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tell you this, but I guess I need to explain what my role is and why I’m here.” He took a deep breath. “I am the head of a team that questions Taylor. We’re not the only ones though. There are a few agencies dealing with him. Frankly, the reason I’m here is because I harbor some doubts about his guilt. I shouldn’t tell you that either, but I hoped to get more information from you or anyone else you can think of.” Jim opened his arms, palms out. “I just want to find out the truth. That’s all.”
Color crept back into her face and her throat jumped as she swallowed. “First, I’m not sure that anyone would call what Mark and I had a relationship. It was too new. Just so we’re straight on that.”
Jim believed her but could also see that even though she denied any relationship with Taylor, she still cared about him. Curious, he asked, “How were things going before Taylor was taken into custody?” He allowed a note of humor to inflect his voice, “For what it’s worth, he seems like a nice enough guy.”
Her cheeks turned pink at that and she actually chuckled. The smile transformed her face. No wonder Taylor had asked her out. “Yeah, he is, but he has some odd quirks.” Jessica’s gaze became distant. “For instance, on our first date, we were having a pleasant dinner…until he had to leave suddenly. Said he didn’t feel good or something. Only, I saw him at a mini-mart on my way home that night. Long story short, the place was about to get robbed and he interfered, and if he hadn’t, I would have shot and probably killed a fourteen year old robbing the store. The kid had a very real looking water pistol. Mark never explained how he knew except that he got a good look at the gun. I know guns, but that one fooled me.”
She went quiet for a few moments. Jim fought the urge to ask questions and was rewarded when she then shook her head and continued, “Anyway, I felt like he ditched me on our date. He apologized and asked me out for the next weekend- literally begged for another chance. I agreed, but the day before our date, he shows up in the middle of our narcotics bust.”