The Bishop's Pawn (Cotton Malone #13)(17)

“Why do you have her?”

“She was trespassing and had a gun.”

“What kind of weapon?”

“Excuse me, what’s your interest?”

I was wondering when the guy would break my momentum. “I came to meet with her and was told you’d detained her. I also happen to be a JAG lawyer.” I found my wallet and showed him my State Bar of Georgia card and military ID.

“This lady, is she in the military?”

“Active duty.” I circled back. “You said she had a gun. What kind of weapon?”

The young man looked befuddled, unsure what to do. I’d learned from dealing with countless subordinates on military bases that the easiest way to get what you wanted was to act important.

“We have a real situation,” I said. “Ms. Perry came here on a sensitive military assignment, which is why she was armed. A boat exploded off Loggerhead today, did it not?”

“We think so. That’s where everybody is. Out investigating.”

Good to know. “That boat blowing up is all part of an ongoing military investigation. Where is Ms. Perry?”

He pointed at one of two doors on the far end of the office. Each was small, with little headroom and a barred glass window. “Locked in there. We don’t have a cell, which is a little ironic since this whole place used to be a prison. I’m keeping an eye on her.”

One more time. “Where’s the supposed weapon she had?”

“You act like there wasn’t one. There was. I have it.”

“Show me.”

He acted a little indignant, as if he needed to show me that the gun existed. Which was exactly the reaction I wanted. Subordinates also liked to prove to those above them how right they could be. He walked over to a cluttered wooden desk and opened a drawer, removing the same 9mm automatic that Coleen had pointed at me earlier.

I approached and held out my hand. “Let me see it.”

Incredibly, the idiot handed it over. I examined the weapon and noticed no magazine. So this guy wasn’t as dumb as I thought. “It’s unloaded. There’s no law against carrying an unloaded gun.”

He reached into the drawer and found the magazine.

“Let me see it,” I demanded.

He hesitated, then handed it over.

Now we were cooking.

Since some of my superiors liked to accuse me of being a loose cannon, I decided it was time to start acting like one. I snapped the magazine into the weapon, chambered a round, and aimed the gun straight at him. “I’m assuming you can open the door to that room?”

The young man’s eyes went wide.

“Never had a gun pointed at you before?”

He shook his head.

“It’s not really a problem unless—” I cocked the hammer. “—I do that.”

The click added an exclamation point to my observation.

“If I even hiccup this could fire.”

He seemed to get the point. “Mister, could you put that thing down? Really. Please. Put it down.”

“Do what I asked.”

This time he backed his way toward the door, fumbling in his pant pocket and removing a key, which he worked into the lock.

I motioned with the gun for him to open the door then enter.

Inside was a small, windowless space, not much larger than a walk-in closet, with more brick walls, that also served as an office. I caught the surprise on Coleen’s face and quickly shook my head, signaling for her to keep quiet. She was handcuffed to an exposed pipe that ran from ceiling to floor beside a desk.

“Unlock her,” I said.

He found another key and opened the cuffs. I motioned for him to take her place and he quickly began to cuff his wrist to the pipe.

Coleen watched in disbelief.

I motioned for us to step out into the other room.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Getting you out of here. Where’s the coin?”

“That’s what you really want. Not to help me.”

“Look, I just met Valdez. He’s here and not happy. He wants his coin.”

“I thought you worked for him?”

“I never said that. You just assumed.” We needed to get moving. “Where’s the coin?”

“They took it.”

Why couldn’t this be simple? I stepped back to the doorway and asked the young ranger, “The lady had a gold coin. Where is it?”

“Are you a thief? Is this a robbery?”

I aimed the gun straight at him. “One more time, then that’s it for you. Where’s the coin?”

“Okay. Okay. It’s over in the staff quarters. One of our historians wanted to look at it.”

“Tell me where.”

He did. “You’re in big trouble, mister. Real big trouble.”

Didn’t I know it. The list of felonies was growing by the minute. And all federal, too. My CO would not believe his good fortune.

“The Coast Guard and FBI are on the way here,” he blurted out.

That caught my attention.

“Talk to me.”

“They radioed a little while ago. The FBI is flying to get her and should be here anytime. You’ll get yours then.”

Maybe not.

After all, I was one of the good guys.