how would that happen? That ‘connection,’ I mean.” You son of a bitch, Eden thought as she asked her question. If you did something to that little girl…
“I don’t know. It just… The longer this went on, the more I wondered if somehow, in her terror…”
“You told Deputy Grimes she was terrified. If you didn’t even get a good look at her, how could you tell what she was feeling?”
Underwood took another breath, his lips tightening briefly before he spoke. “Because I was feeling it, too.”
“Terrified?”
She was blowing this, Eden realized, her skepticism too obvious. A good interrogator would be more sympathetic. Less hostile. She knew that, but she couldn’t get the images of what a man this size and this muscular could do to a four-year-old out of her head.
“Look, I don’t blame you for not believing me. I just thought I needed to let someone know. Just in case, as insane as it sounds, that there might be some connection between what I saw and the Nolan girl.”
There might be some connection, all right. But not the one you’re trying to sell.
“Why don’t you sit down, Mr. Underwood, and tell us everything.”
“That is everything. I realize you think I’m crazy. Believe me, you aren’t the first.” There was a bitter amusement underlying the comment. “In this case, you’re probably right. As I said, I just thought, if there was the remotest possibility something helpful might come of what I saw…” He hesitated, clearly waiting for their response. When no one said anything, he turned and took a step, obviously heading for the door.
“Where were you Tuesday night?”
It took a second before he reacted, but whatever damage Jake Underwood’s brain had suffered didn’t keep him from figuring out where she was going.
“I was home. In bed. Asleep. And whatever you’re thinking, you can think again. I didn’t have anything to do with that child’s disappearance. I came here because I was trying to help.”
“By telling us you ‘saw’ her in a flashback.”
“Obviously, it wasn’t a flashback. I don’t know what it was. All I know is what I saw.”
“I thought it was just an impression.”
“That’s right. An impression that I was in a dark, wet place with a terrified little girl.”
Until now, despite the absurdity of his claim, Underwood’s tone had been reasonable. As if he were trying to explain things to someone whose IQ didn’t quite come up to his standards. This time, however, there was a definite hint of anger in his response.
And Eden intended to use it to her advantage. “Anybody there with her? Her abductor, maybe?”
“There was nobody else.”
“Well, you see, that’s what makes me wonder.”
“Whatever you’re wondering, you can forget. I told you. I didn’t have anything to do with her disappearance.”
“She just somehow…showed up in your flashback.”
“Yes.” The single syllable was cold, controlled, but patently furious.
“What do you think was the reason for that, Mr. Underwood?”
“I have no idea, Chief Reddick.” His sarcasm echoed hers.
“I think you do.”
“I don’t give a damn what you think. I came here because I thought it was my duty to tell law enforcement what I’d seen. What you do with the information is now up to you.”
He rounded the table and walked toward the door. Eden’s gaze automatically followed. The head injury Dean had mentioned hadn’t been obvious, but his stride, though rapid and purposeful, was uneven.
A little less put together than when he left…
With that memory, the rest of Dean’s words echoed in her head, as well. Served his country… Last tour… Hero.
Maybe in her desperation to put an end to the nightmare the Nolans and this community were experiencing, she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. The guy seemed sincere. And sincerely frustrated by the way she’d interpreted his story.
“You have to understand that anybody coming in here claiming to have seen Raine—”
Almost at the door, he turned sharply on his heel. “Oh, I understand. Believe me. Blame my naiveté about how investigations like this are handled for not getting the message before. I stupidly thought those requests for information—any information—were genuine. I guess you were just casting the wider net for suspects. I’m sorry I stumbled into it. You know where to find me if you have further questions.”
He pushed through the narrow doorway without touching the two officers who were still standing frozen on either side. In the silence that fell after Underwood’s pronouncement, the three of them listened as his limping footsteps faded down the tiled hallway. A few seconds later the outside door slammed shut.
Only then did Eden make eye contact with her deputy chief. “I blew it, didn’t I?”
Dean laughed. “I’d say your interrogation skills might need a little polishing.”
He didn’t seem upset about what had just happened, but then Dean hadn’t believed from the beginning that Underwood had any hand in the kidnapping. Neither had Winton.
And reviewing the interview in her mind, she could understand their reservations about considering the ex-soldier a suspect. Despite her own preconceived notions, his reaction to her suggestion had rung true. As Dean had said about Ray Nolan, if Underwood was hiding something, he was a consummate actor. The problem wasn’t that she’d had suspicions. Any law-enforcement officer would have, hearing his story secondhand. The problem was in the way she’d handled the face-to-face.
“I imagine the guys from the Bureau are going to be ticked off,” she acknowledged.
“You gonna tell ’em about this?”
“You think I shouldn’t?”
“I think they’ll react the same way you just did. But if you believe that’s what you ought to do…” Dean shrugged.
“I don’t think I can legitimately keep Underwood’s story from them. Do you?”
“Major Underwood.”
An officer. Something she should have gleaned from his attitude, if nothing else. “Do you?” Even as she repeated the question, Eden recognized that, in this case, calling the Bureau might fall under the category of “covering your ass.” If she didn’t pass this information on to the FBI, and something eventually came of it, she’d be considered derelict in her duty. The same word Jake Underwood had just used, she realized.
I thought it was
