Chapter 4

 

 

The downtown main police station bustled with activity, the lobby filled with civilians—about half of whom looked as if they knew what they were doing and where they were expected to go. Gracie spotted Pen and joined her at the edge of the crowd.

“Two minutes to eleven,” Pen said. “Seems a popular time of day here.”

Gracie chuckled and glanced around the large room, wondering if there actually was any less-popular time in a place like this. She recognized Mariah Kowzlowski—she’d looked up her law firm and the lawyer’s profile online before they left home. The heavyset woman with her severe charcoal gray suit and dyed-too-dark hair would never win any fashion awards, but she had a no-nonsense build and a stern bulldog expression that probably made young prosecutors cringe. Pen and Gracie approached.

“I spoke to you on the phone about our friend, Amber Zeckis,” Pen said.

“Oh, right.” Kowzlowski glanced at her wristwatch. It was now precisely eleven o’clock. “I’ll have time for a quick consult alone with my new client and then we’ll see what the authorities have to say. I assume you’ll be around for a half hour or so?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, merely turned toward the duty desk and signed in. Gracie watched as the lawyer was buzzed through a doorway and disappeared. An officer appeared and made an announcement about jailhouse visiting hours, and a number of the people followed him through a separate door and down a corridor. With most of the crowd gone, Pen and Gracie found seats on benches along one wall.

“I’m itching to know what’s going on in there,” Gracie said.

“For research on one of my novels, Benton once allowed me to sit in the observation room adjacent to an interrogation,” Pen offered. “They turn off the microphones when the client and attorney are in there alone, then most likely an officer or two will come in and begin the questioning. If they feel an arrest is imminent, someone from the prosecutor’s office may come along.”

Gracie closed her eyes, trying not to imagine poor little Amber being grilled about the money. At least she had Kowzlowski on her side. The lawyer didn’t seem like she would take any guff from anyone. Thirty minutes ticked by in what felt like two hours.

Finally, Mariah Kowzlowski emerged. The three moved to a relatively quiet corner. “They’re letting her out, partially on my recognizance, partly because one of the detectives has a wife who’s a big fan of a certain movie made by an Edward Zeckis. Amber’s dad, I gather.”

“Really? I mean … that’s great,” Gracie said.

“They confiscated her passport and she’s under orders not to leave Maricopa County.”

Gracie made a face. The terms might not sit well with Amber or her parents.

“Hey, she’s lucky not to be stuck inside while they dig around for evidence,” Kowzlowski said. “Anyway, there’s some paperwork and then they’ll send her out here. I’ve gotta get back to my office.”

“Gracie will give her a ride home,” Pen said.

Gracie nodded and watched the attorney leave the building. She’d spotted Mark Howard, the detective who’d been at the airport last night, heading toward the elevators.

“I’ll meet you in a minute,” she told Pen as she dashed to catch the cop.

“Detective Howard,” Gracie called out, just as he was about to press the elevator button.

He turned. It took no more than a split second before recognition dawned. “You must be pleased. Your client got what she wanted.”

Gracie wasn’t sure how to read the look on his face. “First of all, she’s a friend, not a client. The customs officials were mistaken.”

“I know. I just wondered whether you were going to admit it to me.”

She forced herself not to grit her teeth. He would notice.

“Tell me this,” she said, stalling Howard from leaving. “Why would she be coming back into the US with the cash on her? If she took the money and got away, why wouldn’t she just stay away? It doesn’t make sense.”

His cocky smile took a dip. “We’re still working the case. There are reasons for everything, and it’s my job to uncover them.”

“But—”

“Everything will come out later, when there’s a trial. I’m afraid I can’t discuss it with you. Good day.”