closed to him.
He was looking at her oddly, Callie thought, as if he was trying to discern something about her. Or maybe he was just lost in thought. She couldn’t blame him for being preoccupied.
“Brent?”
He shook himself free of the haze. “Already taken care of.” His hand curled around the outline of the cell phone in his pocket. “I asked the technician who bugged the phones at the house to do it before he left.”
Well, one problem down, a million to go. “Thinking ahead.” She nodded her approval. A lot of people in this situation couldn’t think at all.
His frown went down to the bone. “Not nearly fast enough.”
Callie could read his mind. “It’s not your fault she was taken.”
She was trying her best to be kind, he thought. But this wasn’t a time for kindness, it was a time for brutal honesty. If he were a bricklayer, his daughter would be home right now, trying to finish the simple homework the teacher had given the class so that she could sit and watch her favorite cartoons.
“It is if it’s someone who’s trying to get back at me,” he replied grimly.
He was right, and there wasn’t anything she could say to the contrary. Frustrated for him, Callie dragged her hand through the top of her hair.
“All right, since you’re here, why don’t we get the rest of the questions out of the way?” She gestured toward the chair on the other side of her desk and sat down in her own.
“Questions?” They weren’t going anywhere. After a beat, Brent sat down.
Callie pulled out a pristine white legal pad and placed it in the center of her desk. She tried to make this sound as innocuous as possible. Was there such a thing as an innocuous interrogation? She didn’t think so. “About you, your relationship with your daughter, your ex-wife—”
His dark eyebrows drew together over his almost-perfect nose. He’d already tried to call his ex to tell her, but in typical Jennifer fashion, she was unreachable. “Jennifer? What does Jennifer have to do with it?”
“Maybe nothing, maybe everything.”
A couple of people came into the squad room. This was all wrong, she decided. She couldn’t expect the judge to talk to her where almost anyone could overhear them. She looked around. Her captain’s office was free. As far as she knew, the man was going to be out for the rest of the day. Something about a photo opportunity. The captain was always at his best when there was a supply of videotape around.
She rose again, taking her legal pad with her. She pointed out the glass-enclosed room. “Why don’t we go into that office and talk?”
Did she think he needed privacy? That there was some kind of confession forthcoming? She was going to be sorely disappointed if she was leaning toward that. Brent held his ground. “We can talk out here, I have nothing to hide.”
Maybe yes, maybe no. Privacy encouraged talking. “Good. But I like tight, secure places. Humor me,” she requested. With that, she led the way to the captain’s office.
With a pastel blue back wall, the office had three sides of glass. Or three walls buffered with blinds, depending on how you viewed it. Callie lowered all three blinds and closed them before she turned to talk to Brent. She made herself as comfortable as possible in the captain’s chair. It was one of those ergonomic ones designed to relax your back. It always had the opposite effect on her, making her feel as if she was on a rack.
But this wasn’t about her.
“Since you brought up your ex-wife,” she began mildly, as if they were having a conversation over afternoon coffee, “let’s talk about her.”
He didn’t need to be a seer like his ancestor to know where she was going with this. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
Maybe he was a little too quick to judge, she mused. You never wanted to think the worst of someone you loved. Or loved once.
Callie phrased her words tactfully, not wanting to add unnecessarily to his pain. “Sometimes we
He was looking at her oddly, Callie thought, as if he was trying to discern something about her. Or maybe he was just lost in thought. She couldn’t blame him for being preoccupied.
“Brent?”
He shook himself free of the haze. “Already taken care of.” His hand curled around the outline of the cell phone in his pocket. “I asked the technician who bugged the phones at the house to do it before he left.”
Well, one problem down, a million to go. “Thinking ahead.” She nodded her approval. A lot of people in this situation couldn’t think at all.
His frown went down to the bone. “Not nearly fast enough.”
Callie could read his mind. “It’s not your fault she was taken.”
She was trying her best to be kind, he thought. But this wasn’t a time for kindness, it was a time for brutal honesty. If he were a bricklayer, his daughter would be home right now, trying to finish the simple homework the teacher had given the class so that she could sit and watch her favorite cartoons.
“It is if it’s someone who’s trying to get back at me,” he replied grimly.
He was right, and there wasn’t anything she could say to the contrary. Frustrated for him, Callie dragged her hand through the top of her hair.
“All right, since you’re here, why don’t we get the rest of the questions out of the way?” She gestured toward the chair on the other side of her desk and sat down in her own.
“Questions?” They weren’t going anywhere. After a beat, Brent sat down.
Callie pulled out a pristine white legal pad and placed it in the center of her desk. She tried to make this sound as innocuous as possible. Was there such a thing as an innocuous interrogation? She didn’t think so. “About you, your relationship with your daughter, your ex-wife—”
His dark eyebrows drew together over his almost-perfect nose. He’d already tried to call his ex to tell her, but in typical Jennifer fashion, she was unreachable. “Jennifer? What does Jennifer have to do with it?”
“Maybe nothing, maybe everything.”
A couple of people came into the squad room. This was all wrong, she decided. She couldn’t expect the judge to talk to her where almost anyone could overhear them. She looked around. Her captain’s office was free. As far as she knew, the man was going to be out for the rest of the day. Something about a photo opportunity. The captain was always at his best when there was a supply of videotape around.
She rose again, taking her legal pad with her. She pointed out the glass-enclosed room. “Why don’t we go into that office and talk?”
Did she think he needed privacy? That there was some kind of confession forthcoming? She was going to be sorely disappointed if she was leaning toward that. Brent held his ground. “We can talk out here, I have nothing to hide.”
Maybe yes, maybe no. Privacy encouraged talking. “Good. But I like tight, secure places. Humor me,” she requested. With that, she led the way to the captain’s office.
With a pastel blue back wall, the office had three sides of glass. Or three walls buffered with blinds, depending on how you viewed it. Callie lowered all three blinds and closed them before she turned to talk to Brent. She made herself as comfortable as possible in the captain’s chair. It was one of those ergonomic ones designed to relax your back. It always had the opposite effect on her, making her feel as if she was on a rack.
But this wasn’t about her.
“Since you brought up your ex-wife,” she began mildly, as if they were having a conversation over afternoon coffee, “let’s talk about her.”
He didn’t need to be a seer like his ancestor to know where she was going with this. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
Maybe he was a little too quick to judge, she mused. You never wanted to think the worst of someone you loved. Or loved once.
Callie phrased her words tactfully, not wanting to add unnecessarily to his pain. “Sometimes we
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