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Mortison ignored her question all together and went straight to reading Jordan her Miranda rights.  “Now would probably be a good time to let you know that you have the right to remain silent, Miss Hall. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights as I have just read them to you?”

             
“Yes.” Jordan felt numb. Not from the shock of being arrested, because if she was honest with herself she had half predicted this outcome, but rather by the murder whose victim still hung nameless in the air.

              When their search turned up no one else, Detective Mortison and his partner Detective Bristol loaded Jordan into the back of their sedan and began their long drive back home. The entire time they drove, the two men up front paid no mind to Jordan, carrying on and talking about mundane things as though they had completely forgotten about her sitting in the backseat in handcuffs. Jordan had almost opened her mouth to speak nearly a million times since their road trip began, the same question resting on the tip of her tongue each time, but just as she was about to ask whose murder she was being arrested for she stopped herself. She wasn’t prepared to hear the answer yet. She tried hard to distract herself. To focus on what she needed to do, but that was hard to figure out when she wasn’t even sure what she wanted at this point.  Surely Fish would have noticed she was missing by now. Given that he knew about Mortison and the call she had made, it wouldn’t take him too long to piece things together and find her. But then what would he do? He was an information gatherer, a hacker, a complete badass on the internet, but not much more than a glorified nerd in the real world. He would hardly have the resources, let alone the nerve, to take any action on his own.

             
By the time they finally arrived back at the police station, Jordan was starving and the fact that she had had to pee for the last five hours wasn’t making her any more comfortable. Both men had stopped several times during their trip to relieve themselves. They had also made the time to detour at a drive through to order food, but never thought to offer the same courtesy to Jordan. Not that she would have eaten anything they offered her anyway. While the empty pit in her stomach gurgled away angrily in search of sustenance, her appetite was sorely lacking. Even the idea of food made her want to vomit.

             
Jordan was led straight into an interrogation room when they arrived. Once inside, Bristol left Mortison to handle her questioning alone. They sat across from one another in silence, Jordan cuffed to the legs of the steel table between them.

             
“Aren’t I supposed to get a phone call or something?” Jordan had no idea who she would even call, but at this point she was arguing for pure principal.

             
The detective didn’t even bother to make eye contact. He just swept his hand over the table’s surface, clearing some crumbs left behind from someone’s sandwich and said, “You would if you weren’t already dead.”

             
Jordan felt the blood drain from her face. She felt light headed and winded as though someone had taken a baseball bat to her gut and knocked her very last breath out of her, but she had no intention of letting Gary Mortison know about any of that.

             
“It was you,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “You leaked it to the media that I was dead and then you ambushed us at the motel after we called you for help!”

             
“Don’t kid yourself honey. That call wasn’t about getting you help, it was about cutting you loose,” he replied smugly as he leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms and folding his hands behind his head as though this was just a friendly chat between friends. A sick satisfaction flickered in his eyes. Jordan had to fight the urge to spit in his face.

             
“What are you talking about?” Jordan was convinced she couldn’t believe a word out of this man’s mouth and yet his arrogance ate away at her, making her desperate to know what he did and she didn’t.

             
“I’m talking about your boyfriend, the criminal, selling you out so he could make a clean getaway without the extra baggage.”

             
Jordan shook her head as the confusion became overwhelming. “No, Sawyer’s not a criminal. He’s a cop. He told me. That’s why he told me to call you, you’re his contact!”

             
“A cop?!” Mortison laughed out loud. “If Sawyer’s a cop then I’m the fucking Easter bunny! I’m Sawyer’s contact alright. He’s my informant, my go-to guy when I need a little dirt on the underworld. He’s a two-faced snitch who’d sell his own mother down the river for the right price…but I’m guessing you’re figuring that out about him right about now.”

             
Jordan lowered her eyes to keep the room from spinning. She flew through the last few days in her mind trying to remember everything that had happened, everything that had been said. Had there been signs that she had missed? And what about Fish, if it was all true, was he in on it or had Sawyer sold him out just as easily. But how could it be true? How could the Sawyer she knew be the same man this Mortison asshole was talking about? The longer she thought about it, the more the hurt turned to fury, until her only focus became the task at hand - defeating the enemy across from her. She would have to deal with Sawyer later. And she
would
deal with him since his murder was clearly not the one she had been charged with.  If he thought he could just use her and dump her off in this shit pile deeper than the one she had already been in, he had gravely miscalculated the extremes she would go to, to right an injustice, even one brought against her. Especially now that she had nothing left to lose.

             
“So why bring me here? Won’t it raise a few red flags having me sitting here at the police station for all your little cop buddies to see? I mean, what with me being dead and all.” Jordan’s mind was racing as she scanned through the names of every police officer she had ever worked with trying to remember if anyone of them belonged to this district. It wasn’t likely since she was pretty sure they were located on the wrong side of the county line, but she was desperate.

             
“No. Nobody cares about you enough to look that closely. Sawyer’s the one I’m after and you’re going to help me get him.”

             
“And if I don’t?” At this point Jordan didn’t even see how she possibly could.

             
Mortison sat up straight again, pulling his chair as close to the table as he could and then leaning  forward, hovering over her head,  he growled, “Then you stay dead.”

             
Little did he know, that was about as empty a threat as he could have made to Jordan, but she played along, not willing to surrender now that she finally had something she could grasp that could give her the upper hand.

             
“Alright. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, just please let me go back to my family.”

             
Satisfied, Mortison sat back again. “We’ll have to see about all of that. After all, there’s still that little crime spree you went on after hooking up with our good friend Sawyer. And someone will have to answer for it. But, if you play nice and you do what I say, maybe – maybe, I can work out a deal with the district attorney on your behalf.”

             
This time Jordan kept her mouth shut. Worried that the detective would hear the lie in her tone, she relied on looking as pathetic as possible and nodding repeatedly.                             

             
“I thought you might see reason if you had a moment to think about things. Why don’t you go ahead and start with the last time you saw Sawyer, where you were, where he was headed, who you were with and why you split up.”  When he finished, he looked back at Jordan with greedy eyes as though she was about to start spitting dollar bills from her mouth. Not wanting to seem as though she was stalling, Jordan feigned an on slot of tears she pretended to fight back while she decided the best way to proceed. As pissed as she was with Sawyer, she had no intention of hand delivering him to this piece of shit. At least not until after she had had her turn with him.

             
Jordan knew she’d have to make her story as believable as possible and not knowing what Mortison did or didn’t know, she opted to add to the version she shared with him rather than withhold anything that had happened.  So, after giving him the rundown of events she explained that Sawyer had gotten two messages to her via a secret email account in which he had told her that he was headed further south to the Florida Keys in hopes of finding work on a private yacht out there. The plan was for him to lay low at sea for a while until things blew over. It sounded completely ridiculous to Jordan even as the words were coming out of her own mouth, but Gary Mortison didn’t seem to have such issues with the fictional turn of events. In fact, by the time she had finished, he looked like a cat about slurp up a trapped mouse, he was so sure of himself.

             
After Jordan had told him all she could think to improvise, Mortison took off, leaving her to sit alone in the interrogation room. She still hadn’t peed, but somehow that didn’t seem like such a pressing matter anymore as she sat there deserted and overcome with her own thoughts. Thoughts about Sawyer, but mostly thoughts about herself and how she could have been so wrong. Her brain had told her all along that he was bad news and to run in the opposite direction, but something inside her, something stronger, had pulled her in. She had believed it was her gut, her instincts overriding her logical reaction, but now she wondered if he really had just been that good of a liar.

             
Wrought with doubt and guilt over her own stupidity, Jordan sat there staring blankly at the mirrored wall in front of her. She was face to face with her own reflection and yet she saw nothing at all. She was still sitting there staring when Mortison and Bristol came back into the room. Neither of them said much of anything as they unhooked her cuffs from the table and proceeded to lead her down a long narrow hallway and out through a back door. Before Jordan could remember to ask for a bathroom break, she was once again in the backseat of Mortison’s car driving off to some undisclosed location.

             
This time they reached their destination much faster than the last. They had only traveled a few blocks over when Jordan noticed the car making a right turn toward a row of warehouses. The nausea instantly returned as she realized that Mortison hadn’t run out of shady surprises for her just yet.

             
As the car approached the last of the buildings, it slowed down, until finally coming to a stop at the very back where it would be out of sight. Jordan also took notice that while there was nothing appealing to the eyes about the building’s themselves, there was lush landscaping running alongside each one of the warehouses. This was currently being tended to by a crew of three or four men, all operating loud machinery ranging from a riding mower to a leaf blower all of which would make it impossible for anyone to hear her should she feel the need to scream at any point in the near future. So, she was now not only invisible, she was also mute.

It wasn’t long after the car had parked, that Bristol was opening Jordan’s door and pulling her out by the arm. Jordan crinkled her nose when the outside air hit her. It smelled of dirty gym socks and public pool and not even the intensity of the freshly cut grass was enough to mask the odor. The moment she was escorted inside the warehouse closest to her, Jordan understood why. This wasn’t just any old building used for storage, it was loaded with boxing rings and training equipment and Jordan suddenly couldn’t help but wonder if she had somehow fallen into some warped version of Fight Club.

She was about to abandon all good judgment and let sarcasm make a run for it when Jordan heard a door open and shut. It was followed by the sound of footsteps as several people made their way to the front of the building where she stood with Mortison and Bristol still beside her.

Jordan’s eyes followed the noise until a group of men came into view. There were five of them, all built as though they lived at the gym and none of them over the age of thirty. At the head of the group was a good looking kid with spiked black hair and a flawless olive complexion. His harsh jawline softened at the sight of her.

Jordan felt the impact of Mortison’s palm on her lower back as he shoved her forward.

“Here she is Mr. Mancini.
Just like I promised.”

              At first Jordan thought she had misunderstood, but as two of the men came forward and took her from Mortison’s grip, things began to get clearer. This wasn’t about justice, it was about revenge. The only thing Jordan couldn’t quite figure out was why the Mancini’s were so invested in avenging the death of an Esposito. After all, the two families weren’t exactly friendly. Sure, Sawyer had told her that the Mancini’s would turn their back on him for what they believed he had done, but what lengths would they go to to clean up the mess he had made?

             
There was a brief exchange between Mancini and Mortison where a brown paper bag changed hands, presumably filled with cash. Shortly after, the two detectives were gone.

             
“What do you want us to do with her, Gabriel?” the guy holding Jordan’s right arm asked.

“Take her upstairs,” Mancini replied. “Let’s have a little fun, shall we?”

“Yes, let’s,” said Jordan, bringing everyone’s attention to her at once. “I could go for some fun after the night I’ve had.” Her eyes were blazing as she let them travel the room to stare down each and every one of the men. Whatever they had in mind, she damn sure wasn’t going down without a fight.

“A feisty one, I like it.” Gabriel Mancini led the way upstairs with Jordan and her two escorts bringing up the rear. The windowless room they took her two was a nothing more than a glorified broom closet furnished with everything you’d image Hugh Hefner would need to feel right at home.

At the center of it all stood a single chair with red velvet trim and cushions. ‘
Probably to hide the blood stains
,’ Jordan thought grimly. She wasn’t at all surprised when she was ordered to sit in it a moment later. One of the guy’s temporarily undid her cuffs only to restrain her once more, this time to the armrest. Jordan paid them no attention. Instead she sunk into the chair and did her best imitation of someone who was completely relaxed.

“Nice chair,” she said with great enthusiasm.
“Very soft and cushy.”

“I’m glad you like it. Feel free to get comfortable, you may be there for a w
hile,” said Gabriel. He was studying her with great interest.

“So, is this one of those intimate get-togethers or are you expecting more people to show up?” Jordan asked casually.

“I think we’ll be keeping it nice and intimate. No need to clutter the room with un-important people when we already have you – our guest of honor.”

Jordan laughed harshly. “And what did I do to deserve that title?”

“It’s not what you’ve done, it’s what you’re
going
to do,” said Gabriel. He was wringing his hands in anticipation.

Jordan kicked out her feet in front of her and crossed them. “While I hate to be the bearer of bad news, I doubt I’ll be doing much of anything for you. It’s been a long-ass week and I’m too goddamn exhausted to help out yet another incompetent asshole. How about you handle your own business and leave me the fuck out of it?! How’s that for a fucking plan?” Jordan paused for effect and then added, “Now how about a beer. I thought you said this was going to be fun!”

              This time Gabriel didn’t respond. He simply glanced over at one of his steroid puppets and nodded. Jordan didn’t have to guess too hard what it meant. She closed her eyes and waited for the blow. She felt the impact of a fist hitting her jaw and the knuckles as they rolled over her gums, bruising them instantly. Jordan bit back a scream, refusing to show her pain. She glared up at Gabriel Mancini defiantly and spat a mouthful of blood at his feet.

             
She saw him give another nod and braced herself for another hit. Two more followed and Jordan was starting to understand where the expression ‘seeing stars’ had come from.

             
“Having fun yet?”

             
“Yeah, I’m having a ball. Why don’t you spare me your games and just tell me what the fuck it is you want from me.” Jordan looked up at Mancini with her head cocked to the side. The pounding pain in her left temple was making it impossible to hold it upright. She could see blood running down the side of her eyelid and could taste it every time she swallowed. Suddenly she felt strangely grateful that Mancini had chosen to move the party to the office rather than make use of one of the many boxing rings he had downstairs. At least this room wasn’t wall to wall mirrors. Jordan wasn’t sure she would have been able stomach the sight of herself.

             
“I don’t want anything from you,” Mancini chuckled. “You already gave my friend the detective everything you had to offer. The only good you are to me now… is as a corpse.”

             
Jordan swallowed hard. She stubbornly pushed out her chin, inviting another blow and said, “Then why not just shoot me and get it over with?”

             
Gabriel Mancini clapped his hands together with delight and laughed. Jordan was turning out to be far more entertaining than he ever could have hoped for. “Since you’re about to be dead anyway I suppose I can tell you. Although I should probably start at the beginning.” Gabriel turned away and went to sit at his desk. Once he was settled into his fancy leather chair, he swiveled it around to face Jordan.

             
“You see, sweetheart, my father is Gino Mancini. Naturally, as his eldest son, I had fully expected to take over the family business at some point. I had been groomed for it my entire life, it was my birthright. Then, along came Stefan Vittorio, or as you know him, Detective Sawyer Lazzaro –”

             
“Wait, Mortison said that was a lie. He said Sawyer wasn’t a cop – that he was a criminal,” Jordan stammered.

             
Mancini shook his head in amusement. “Oh, Sawyer’s a criminal alright. The worst kind. There is no greater crime than betrayal and disloyalty. Not in my world anyway. But we’re getting off track. Stefan, or Sawyer, started out at the bottom of my father’s organization. He was a fast learner and dedicated, so he quickly worked his way up. Soon he was on my crew and then it wasn’t long before he had somehow weaseled his way into my father’s good graces. Before I knew it,
I
was taking orders from
him
! My father, the old fool, was so enamored with Sawyer the snake that he was going to hand his whole damn empire over to him!” Suddenly, Gabriel’s mood had changed from glee to an all-out rage. “Obviously, I wasn’t going to just sit by and let some stranger steal what was rightfully mine!”

             
Jordan just sat there in stunned silence, listening as Gabriel continued to tell her everything.

             
“As luck would have it, Detective Mortison and I crossed paths right around the same time that Sawyer was becoming a nuisance. How Mortison has achieved the title and respect he holds in the law enforcement community has got to be the longest running unsolved mystery in history. That cop is dirtier than a rat living out of a dumpster. Anyway, he’d helped out a couple of my guys in the past and when he heard I was having problems with your buddy Sawyer, well, he was all too happy to help me make them go away.” Gabriel paused thoughtfully. He reached for a glass of water sitting on the side of his desk and took a long drink. When he finished, he licked his lips and went on with his story.

             
“I could have just gone straight to my father and told him who Sawyer really was. My father would have seen to it that Sawyer had an unfortunate accident and that would have been the end of it. No one ever would have known, my father would have saved face and I would have gotten what I deserved all along. Only now I wanted more and I saw an opportunity to get it. So, Mortison and I set up Sawyer to take the fall for killing the Esposito kid while at the same time hiring Hathaway – Joey Esposito’s killer for hire – to go after Sawyer for taking out the kid. It was brilliant really, both sides going after each other thinking the other had started it. A mob war was just the kind of distraction I needed to really set my plan into motion. You see, while my father was busy fighting with Esposito Sr. my guys were exhausting their efforts at taking over. Both sides have been so focused on taking each other out that neither one of them has noticed that they’re running out of things to fight for. By the time the dust settles, they will be left with nothing and I will have it all.” He laughed arrogantly. Jordan noticed that he was running the tip of his finger over the rim of his glass repeatedly. Despite what he wanted her to believe, Gabriel Mancini was nervous about something.

             
“Yes, everything went exactly according to plan….Well, almost everything. No one had really counted on you.” He fixated his gaze on her. Jordan did her best to straighten herself up in the chair, but the throbbing in her head made it nearly impossible to move. So, she resorted to sarcasm.

             
“Sorry if I screwed up your plans to rule the underworld.”

             
“Yes, you should be. But, what’s done is done, nothing more to do, but clean up. Which is precisely why you need to die; preferably in a horrifyingly violent fashion. It’s nothing personal, it’s just that Sawyer complicated things by killing Hathaway rather than dying himself. So now we’ve had to improvise. Instead of putting another hit out on him, we’re going to make him the most wanted man in America. There won’t be a person alive in this country who won’t be willing to turn him in once the media shows them what he did to you and your beautiful face.” The joy in his tone sent chills down Jordan’s spine, ending with a jolt in her neck which only amplified the pain building up under her skull. The only way she knew to fight through it was to stay in the battle mentally. Jordan was about to engage Gabriel with another snide remark when she heard an unexpected voice coming from the back of the room.

             
“It really is a beautiful face. You should have known better than to lay a finger on it Gabe, ‘cause now I’m going to have to kill you.”

             
Jordan watched as Mancini’s face twisted in anger, his eyes narrowing and his lips elevating into a snarl.

             
“Sawyer.”