His hood had fallen off his head during their struggle, and she’d seen his face plain as day. There wasn’t a single doubt in her mind it was the same kid.
“I need to make a call.” Atwell pulled her phone from the pocket of her windbreaker and turned to walk away.
Putting his hands on Raegan’s shoulders, Rocky gently guided her around so she was facing him directly.
“I know you said you were positive, but?—”
“It’s him, Rocky.” She didn’t bother letting him finish. “He’s in bed with Samer, which means the bank robberies weren’t some scheme cooked up by a bunch of bored kids.”
“I agree.” He shook his handsome head as he looked around the low-lit room. “I’m not sure how coordinated bank hits come into play, but what happened today was definitely about this.”
“I need to go back to headquarters,” Atwell returned in a rush. “They’re pulling Elias Connors from holding so I can question him about all of this.”
“Elias Connors?” Raegan frowned.
Holding the photo back up for Raegan to see, the other woman pointed to the kid.
“That’s his name. He’s nineteen. No priors. Just a kid who, by all appearances, somehow got involved with some very bad people.”
“I want to talk to him.”
Atwell shot her an empathetic expression. “Sorry. I’m already bending enough rules allowing the two of you to stand in the middle of an active crime scene.”
“You wouldn’t even know about this place if it wasn’t for me.”
“I understand.” The federal agent gave a single nod. “It’s the only reason you’re here, now.”
“Agent Atwell, please. I just want to?—”
“I can’t let you speak to the suspect. But…” The woman’s blue gaze slid to Rocky’s before returning back to Raegan’s. “You can watch from behind the glass in the room next to where we’ll be.”
She’d much rather talk to the little asshole herself, but since beggars couldn’t be choosers…
Raegan looked to Rocky and asked, “Do you want to drive, or should I?”
Forty-five minutes later,they were inside Chicago’s FBI field office. Agent Atwell was in the room adjacent to the one where Raegan and Rocky stood, and sitting in the seat across from her was the kid who’d taken several shots at Raegan hours before.
“Come on, Elias. You’re a smart kid. Surely, you can see how much trouble you’re in.”
Elias Connors looked so different than the last time Raegan saw him. In the bank, he’d stood tall. Confident. There’d been an air of confidence surrounding him as he’d shot that gun without reserve.
Now, as he sat across the table from Agent Atwell with his orange top and pants hanging loose, the kid didn’t look confident. He looked…
Scared.
When her suspect remained quiet, Atwell continued with, “Okay, so maybe you need me to help open your eyes. Let’s do that, shall we?” The pretty brunette opened a file she’d carried into the room minutes earlier and pulled out a printed eight-by-ten photo. “That’s the inside of the bank after you shot up the lobby. Do you know what the punishment is for armed robbery of a bank in the United States, Elias?”
The boy gave a jerky shake of his head but said nothing.
“Armed bank robbery carries a maximum sentence of twenty-five years, plus a fine of up to two-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars.”
Elias’s eyes widened with shock and fear. “B-but I’m only nineteen.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Atwell didn’t hesitate. “In the eyes of the court, you’re a full-fledged adult. I’m sure your lawyer would have explained all that to you had you not fired him. But since you’ve decided to waive your right to an attorney, I’ll try to help you understand. Basically, what this all means is that, at nineteen, you get big-boy punishment in a big-boy prison. But don’t worry.” The woman sat back in her chair and tilted her head to the side. “You’re young. Cute. I’m sure you’ll make friends with all kinds of guys once you’re inside.” After a slight pause, she asked, “Do you know what happens to cute young boys like you when they go to prison?”
“P-please.” The kid began to visibly shake. “I-I didn’t mean to?—”
“What? Rob a bank?” Atwell’s tone was filled with sarcasm. “Try to shoot and kill the security guard on duty? Threaten the lives of innocent people? Or maybe…” She leaned in, resting her elbows on the top of the table. “Maybe you didn’t mean to get involved with Samer Nasim Ali.”