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“Hey I remember you. Aren’t you Amanda Montrose, the thief?”
“Never convicted and that part of my life is over. I saw the error of my ways, went back to school on a government rehabilitation program, and became a lawyer. Now, would you like to discuss my resume, or are you going to let me see my client?”
“Hang on a minute.” Taking her card, he left and returned with one of the arresting officers.
“He didn’t ask for a lawyer,” said the man carefully.
Amanda waved a piece of paper. “It says here that my client was disoriented and claimed he couldn’t remember. I certainly hope you haven’t questioned him without confirming his mental status.”
“Well, uh, we’ve sent his blood for testing, but just because he’s taken some fancy new drug doesn’t mean he isn’t guilty.” He looked at the piece of paper Amanda was waving. “How did you get the police report?” He reached for it but she tucked it away.
“I demand to see my client,” Amanda repeated. “Now. If you’ve violated even one of his rights, you will not know what hit you.”
He sighed. “Okay, come with me.”
“I don’t remember.” Nick slumped in his chair, elbows on the table. He had been there for several hours, answering all the questions with the same answer. His clothes had been taken away for testing, replaced by an orange jumpsuit which wasn’t quite big enough through the shoulders. Yes, he knew that was Amanda’s apartment. Yes, he knew Amanda and Lucy. No, he couldn’t remember how he got there. His prints were not on the gun, he had no powder burns on his hands, and certainly no motive to kill an elderly woman, especially one he claimed was a friend. He definitely appeared distraught, but that could be an act. The police officer looked through his file for the third time.
“You were a cop, Wolfe. You know the drill. Help me out here. Give me one detail that convinces me of your innocence.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Fine. Don’t cooperate. But we’ve got a ton of evidence against you. You’re gonna fry for this.”
Nick tensed when he felt another immortal. Despite his racing heart at the distinctive scent of her perfume, he kept his head down, but raised his eyes just enough to look at her briefly as he sat shackled to the table. She might be dressed like a lawyer and her hair was different, but she still affected him the way she did ten years ago. “Mr. Wolfe, we’ll have you out of here in no time.” Glancing around the room, she firmly closed the curtains over the one-way glass.
The two policemen conferred. The one who had been questioning Nick said, “I’ll give you a few minutes and then come back to continue my investigation.” He turned off the cameras and the recorders. To Amanda he said, “There’s someone right outside the door if you need help.”
When the door closed behind them, Nick said forcefully. “Go away.”
“What the hell happened? Who killed Lucy?” Her eyes filled with pain, but her face was neutral. “Look at me Nick.”
“I don’t remember. Go away.” Nick kept his eyes firmly on the table.
“We can discuss that later. We need to get you out of here.”
“Why?”
“Jail is no place for immortals,” Amanda hissed.
“I’ve arrested people on less evidence. Go away Amanda. I can deal with this.” He lowered his shackled hands under the table, embarrassed to have her see him like this but feeling like he wanted to surge up and upend the table and run.
“No you won’t and you can’t. If you did kill Lucy, then I’ll take your head myself. If you didn’t, then we’ll find out who did and deal with it. The police cannot investigate immortal activity, Nick. Didn’t you learn anything in the last ten years?” She leaned over the table, itching to touch his face, so glad to see him again. In her soul, she knew that he would never harm Lucy, not even to get back at her for what she had done to him. “Now listen to me. This is what we’re going to do.”
***
In another office in the police station, Bert leaned over a desk, his hands on the blotter. “Come on Frank, no way it’s him, shoot, I’ve known him for fourteen years and there’s no way Nick Wolf would kill a woman. Especially not Lucy. He loved her.”
“Guys can turn, Bert, you and I both know that. Carl was full of stories about Nick. Nick this, Nick that. We were all glad when old Carl retired. Wolfe was loose cannon when he was on the force. Disappeared and now comes back and is found with a dead body. A security guard saw him enter the building through the private entrance. Alone. He’s the only one there. A lot can happen in that time. Right now, he’s all I’ve got.”
Bert exhaled and appeared to think. “How long till the blood work gets done?”
“Couple of days. Not that it’ll make much difference. Being drugged does not excuse murder. But we have to cover all the bases.” Frank watched Bert pace the room.
“Listen Frank, you and I both know that the lab the cops use will hold his blood for days. When I want lab work done, I use this private guy. No, I can’t give you his name, but I can get results in a few hours. Come on; remember how I got the killer in the Carter case last year? You owe me this.” Hands wide, Bert gave his most benign look.
Frank considered that case and at least three others Bert had helped solve over the years. Even Wolfe had been a good cop in his day despite his attitude. Solved his cases, very dedicated to upholding the law. Cops had to stick up for each other. “If you think it will help, alright, Bert, but as I said the results don’t clear him. But it does seem odd that he would kill her. Probably no more than a manslaughter charge. Minimum sentence if he’s got a good lawyer.”
“And if it’s not him, then you need to catch the real killer. Thanks, Frank.” He already had his hand on the door knob. “I’m gonna make it my priority to find this guy.”
“An awful lot of trouble for a vial of blood,” muttered Bert to himself as, fifteen minutes later, the blood safely secure in his pocket, he walked back to the front of the station to wait for Amanda. “She’d better have a really good explanation for this.
A scuffling noise attracted him, and he looked down a hallway as three police officers pushed him aside in their haste.
“Let her go,” ordered one, his hands reaching for his weapon.
Bert looked aghast at the tableau. Nick, in his orange jumpsuit, had Amanda by the neck, a desperate look on his face.
“I won’t let her go,” Nick insisted. “Not until I’m out of here. I won’t stay here.”
“Come on Wolfe.” A woman officer, powerful and in her mid-forties, made her way in front of the others, looking calmly at Nick. “You remember me, dontcha? Mary Sullivan. I always wanted to be your partner, but they gave the pleasure to Claudia.” She walked slowly, her hands up, keeping her eyes on Nick, hoping he wouldn’t hurt his hostage. “If you want a hostage, take me. Let her go.”
Nick looked at her but said, “Don’t come any closer Mary. I know the drill. I won’t be talked out of this.” He gripped Amanda tighter. Amanda feigned concern, even managing to squeeze out a tear between little gasps of fear and horror.
Officer Sullivan stopped, working a different approach. “There’s no way out, Nick. If you try to leave they will shoot you.”
“No, Nick, don’t do this!” Bert yelled before being dragged back.
“Like hell I won’t.” Nick looked defiantly at all the cops at the end of the hall, before efficiently snapping Amanda’s neck. He dropped her body and moved menacingly towards the police. Two steps and ten bullets later, he lay in a crumpled heap beside her.
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