The Darkness of Evil (Karen Vail #7)(53)

Vail glanced at Ramos. “That’s not how this is going to work.”

“Says who?”

Vail pulled her badge from her belt and slammed it on the table. “The FBI. You have ten seconds to tell us where Lance Kubiak is. Ramos and I don’t have time for ego and testosterone.”

Barfield sucked his teeth, mulling it over.

She made a show of checking her watch. “In five seconds we’re going to place you under arrest for obstruction. You’ll lose your job. And that means you won’t get another position with federal law enforcement.”

Barfield’s face darkened. The vein in his right temple pulsed rhythmically.

What’s this guy’s role in the escape? His posturing was about to cross the line into self-preservation, where cooperating would be more detrimental than stonewalling them. Vail pulled a set of handcuffs off her belt. “James Barfield, you are—”

“He’s here,” Barfield said. “He’s down the hall. I’ll go get him.”

“No,” Ramos said. “Tell us where. You stay here. We’ll go.”

Following Barfield’s instructions, Vail and Ramos filed into the corridor and hung a left at the end of the institutional-tiled corridor. Three dozen feet later, they turned right and walked into a room where a middle-aged man sat. His face was taut, his eyes glassy and fatigued.

“Officer Kubiak. I’m Karen Vail, FBI. This is Ray Ramos, HSI.”

“I had an appointment with Agent Ramos for tomorrow morning. Why do we have to do this tonight?”

Ramos shrugged. “Because my boss said we have to.”

“We’re looking into the escape of Roscoe Lee Marcks. Are you familiar with Marcks?”

“He’s an inmate here. Of course I know who he is.”

Vail nodded. “Good, good. Agent Ramos and I serve on the Marshals fugitive task force so we’re trying to track down any leads that may help us apprehend him. His daughter’s been cooperating and we’re real close, but it’d be great if you can help us speed up the process. People are at risk each day he’s in the wild.”

“How well do you know him?” Ramos asked.

“He’s not on my block, but I’ve seen him around. I don’t think I’ve said ten words to him.”

Vail elbowed Ramos. “You got a picture of him?”

“Don’t have one with me. Officer Kubiak, you know who he is on sight, right? You clear who we’re talking about here?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

“So where do you think he is? One of the things we try to do with this task force is compile information on who the fugitive might know, places he might go.”

“No idea. Like I said, I’ve barely said ten words to him in four years.”

You’re up on exactly how long he’s served at Potter? Someone you barely know?

“Why are you asking me about that? What about the other COs? We’ve got guards who were on his block, who know more about Marcks than I ever could.”

“We’ve already spoken with some of them,” Ramos said. “And I’m gonna be talking with others tomorrow morning. We’ll be talking to everyone.”

“You know the nurse who was with Marcks when he escaped?”

Kubiak’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah. Nice lady. Always had a smile, good things to say about people here.”

“So you were surprised that Marcks killed her.”

“We all were. I mean, why bother? What kind of threat was she to him?”

“A guy like Marcks doesn’t need a reason to kill,” Vail said. “You’re a correctional officer. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”

Kubiak made a show of agreeing with her—a bit too overzealously, in her opinion. If she did not already know he was deceiving her, that would have tipped her off that something was not quite right.

“So you don’t have any information that can help us locate him,” Ramos said. “No one you think he’d contact, hang out with, ask for money, look to for help, that kinda thing.”

“Wish I could help,” Kubiak said. “But no. I just didn’t know the guy. And since he wasn’t on my block, I have no idea about his personal life, people he may trust or lean on when he’s on the run.”

“Do us a favor and call us if you think of anything that can help us.” Vail and Ramos handed him their cards.

“Of course. I want this * caught soon as possible. Before he hurts anyone else.”

Vail gave him a disarming grin. “Thanks so much, Officer Kubiak. We really appreciate your time.”

THE COLD AIR HIT VAIL’S CHEEKS when they entered the parking lot, the breeze bringing the wind chill down to well below zero. At least the snow had stopped.

Although the sodium vapor lights illuminated the area well, the isolation of the prison building gave it an eerie feel, as if it were the only sign of life for miles in all directions. “So we’ve got people listening in?”

“If he makes a call,” Ramos said, pulling out his car keys, “we’ll know about it.”

“Clock’s ticking. We should go get a bite to eat, use the restroom while we can.”

Ramos laughed. “What, are you going all Special Forces on me?”