Chapter 31
Chapter 31
Jane’s mouth is dry as cotton as she waits for the older policeman’s response.
His gaze hardens and she has no idea what to expect next. Should she have asked for a specific lawyer? She goes through the mental Rolodex of lawyers she and Dan know and can think of only one—their friend Nicole Waller, who works as one of the corporate attorneys for In-N-Out Burger. She frowns. Though Nicole started her career as a prosecutor, the last time she was in a courtroom must have been fifteen years earlier, and Jane isn’t sure she’d be the best person to represent her. Though it surely would be a step up from a random public defender. She pictures some harried man in an ill-fitting suit with a greasy comb-over. It’s not a flattering image, but aren’t public defenders notoriously overworked and underpaid?
“OK, well,” the older policeman, Zimmerman, says in his gravelly voice. “You can leave.”
“What?” Jane stares at him, open-mouthed. Is this some kind of trick? A test? “I’m not getting a lawyer?”
“Whether you get one is up to you, but we’re not detaining you, so you may go.”
“We’re not?” asks Kip, whose own look of surprise mirrors Jane’s.
“No.”
“But we’re onto something here!” Kip says. “This is important.”
The older police officer shrugs. “She’s not our suspect.”
“She wrote this book!”
“Yes, and we’ll continue to investigate the matter. But she also texted 9-1-1 to alert us of the hostage situation, and it’s been a very long night. If she wants to lawyer up, she can, but right now, I think we could all stand to get some sleep. We can continue this line of questioning another day, if need be.”
Another knock on the door interrupts them.
“Come in,” Zimmerman says.
A third man pokes his head in. “We have a situation.”
“Another one?”
Jane tenses. Did they find Sissy? Has she been arrested? The cop lowers his voice to address Zimmerman directly, but the room is so small Jane can hear plain as day.
“It seems the nine million dollars Mr.St. Clair claims was stolen wasn’t actually stolen.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, the charge went through, but the credit card company hasn’t even paid it out yet. They’ve been alerted to the fraud and will not be completing the transaction.”
Jane’s forehead wrinkles deepen in confusion even as she fills with relief. Sissy isn’t in the clear yet, but at least she’s not a thief!
“I’m free to go?”
“You’re free to go. Please don’t leave the state, as this is an ongoing investigation and we’ll be in touch—with your lawyer, I suppose, when you employ one—with any further questions.”
Jane nods and stands on shaky legs. She walks through the quiet precinct, running over the events of the evening, something niggling at the edges of her mind. Why did Brick say Hyperion had a different policy and would deposit the money by nine if it wasn’t true? He clearly wanted Otto to believe he was stealing the money, but to what end? He obviously has a personal vendetta against the guy, but it seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to just to make Otto think Brick got the best of him.
Then Jane stops midstride, her eyes going wide as the words Brick said echo in her mind: That’s the most important part of any heist, don’t you think? Misdirection.
Jane resumes walking, wheels spinning, as she tries to piece together what Brick was actually after. And then she reaches the front door, opens it, and is surprised to find it’s still dark when she steps out into the night. The sun has yet to rise on a new day.
“Mom!” A body suddenly flings itself at her, and with a mother’s instinct she wraps her arms around the form before she fully realizes it’s Josh, with his musty boy scent. And right behind him is Sissy, fresh-faced and hesitant. “Are you OK?” Josh says into her neck. “What happened?”
Jane had asked to call her kids when she finally arrived at the police station to let them know where she was, that their dad was in the hospital but OK, and that she would be home soon. But Josh insisted on coming straight to her. He’s always had a penchant for drama.
“Sissy,” Jane says, reaching out to cup her daughter’s face with her hand. “You didn’t have to come, too.”
“She almost didn’t,” Josh says with a sneer. “She wasn’t even home when you called. She missed curfew!” Josh waits, almost gleefully, to see what punishment might befall his sister, but Jane just ruffles his hair and then grasps Josh’s palm with one hand and Sissy’s with her other.
“She’s an adult,” Jane says. “I guess she’s capable of making her own decisions now.”
“What?” Josh protests.
“C’mon,” Jane sighs, thrilled to be out of that restaurant, for her daughter to be safe, for her family to be out of harm’s way. “Let’s go get your father.”