booming voice said. He didn’t wait to be invited in. Instead the knob turned, and he stuck his head inside. He was a clean-cut, square-jawed man with an intense blue-eyed glare and dark hair slicked back. He took one quick look around the room and zeroed in on Miriam.
“Is that her?” he asked, looking at Captain Porter.
“Her? As in…”
“The police sergeant who cracked the case?” he asked.
Porter stalled, not wanting to concede such an assessment. The FBI, it seemed, had plans different from his. “Well, Agent Nettles. There was no one person responsible. It was a joint effort. Detective O’Leary is recovering from wounds in the hospital as we speak.”
Nettles listened, half-interested. He opened the door fully and stepped inside as clamor from the hall entered the office with him. “Yeah, but she’s the one who found the bunker, correct?” He pointed directly at her as Porter conceded the fact.
Porter then looked up and introduced her to Agent Nettles. Miriam turned to him and shook his hand. His tight grip and direct eye contact immediately made her feel better. Perhaps they could work together. Nettles looked outside into the hallway, then slowly closed the door. As he turned around to address them once more, Porter interjected.
“Ms. Castillo was providing service purely in the role of adviser to Detective O’Leary. She, in fact, no longer serves in the capacity of a peace officer.”
“Okay. So we deputize her,” Nettles said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“I don’t think she’s in any state to be assisting an investigation,” Porter said.
“We need her.” Nettles paused, noticing the skepticism on the captain’s face. “The Andersons are lawyering up. If we don’t charge them with something soon—within the next twenty-four hours—they walk.”
“And what does that have to do with her?” Porter asked.
“That’s who they want to speak to,” Nettles said. “Asked for her by name.”
Porter shook his head in utter confusion. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Nettles said, but he made his point perfectly clear: The FBI wanted Miriam. She had just been given a voice, the chance she wanted. And she wasn’t going to waste a moment.
The captain reluctantly conceded, but decided to add a few facts he wasn’t sure Nettle was aware of. “Her daughter has been kidnapped.”
Nettles looked at her, surprised, as Porter continued. “Kidnapped by a man who claims to be Phillip Anderson.”
“It was Phillip Anderson,” Miriam said.
“Her husband was also murdered,” the captain added.
Nettles gave another surprised look, eyes even wider.
“My husband and I were separated,” she said, looking down. Very little of what had happened had truly sunk in yet. She didn’t want to think about it now. Couldn’t, in fact. To linger on Freddy’s too-recent death would destroy her. She had to keep moving.
The captain waved his hand as if to brush aside the whole idea of deputizing Miriam. “My concern is that Ms. Castillo isn’t in the right state of mind.” He made direct eye contact. “No one should be expected to operate in any capacity after what she’s been through.”
Nettles placed his hands on his hips. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up. His ID badge hung in front of his red tie. “I didn’t know that.” He looked at Miriam with what seemed like real sympathy in his eyes. “I don’t want you to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with.”
“I need to do this,” Miriam said. “Please.”
“Does that mean that you want to be a cop again?” Lou asked.
She looked at all three men as they waited for her answer. “Whatever it takes.”
All four holding rooms were occupied. Each room had a window that could not be seen through from the other side. The Anderson brothers were separated and placed in three different rooms. Their parents shared the last room and were seated at the table together. Miriam watched them from behind the glass. They
Linda Westphal
Ruth Hamilton
Julie Gerstenblatt
Ian M. Dudley
Leslie Glass
Neneh J. Gordon
Keri Arthur
Ella Dominguez
April Henry
Dana Bate