bed. “There was another murder.”
Jason looked around. Bransome was flanked by Detective Saroyan and a female officer he hadn’t seen before. He touched the table in front of him. There had to be a master blueprint for police station interrogation rooms. He’d seen several, and they were all alike. “Where’s Agnes?”
Bransome paced behind the sterile table. “She’s at home. It’s Wilson’s shift again.”
“You brought me in and left her at home? Who’s the suspect here?”
“She has an asshole lawyer. You don’t.”
Jason touched the gash on his head. It still oozed a little fluid. “That could change.” He paused. “Did Agnes leave her house? You had it staked out, right?”
“Didier had the night shift.” Bransome turned to face the officer.
Officer Didier cleared her throat. “She’s as regular as clockwork. Downstairs lights go out and the porch light comes on at 6:30. The light in her bedroom goes on, and then the blue glow of the television. Light and TV go off at 9:30 sharp. Nothing but the porch light until seven the next morning. You could set your clock by her schedule.”
“How about last night?”
Bransome stepped forward and glared at Jason. “How about if we ask the questions?”
Didier looked at Bransome and then at Jason. “Same thing last night as all the others.”
Jason rubbed his eyes. “Where was the murder?”
“You don’t know?”
He looked down, shook his head, and exhaled. “I haven’t seen Agnes since I dropped her off. I just got back in town yesterday, around suppertime.”
Bransome stared, as if he were running a telepathic lie detector.
Jason blew out a breath. “Where was it?”
“In Point Arena.”
Jason put his hands to his mouth. “They’re getting closer.” He slapped his hands on the table, startling everyone but Bransome. “Do you want to know if she went anywhere?”
“I thought you didn’t know anything about this.”
“I don’t. When I drove her home, I wrote down the odometer reading.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and lifted a scrap of paper from the money compartment. “When I pulled in the garage, it was at twenty-one thousand, four fifty-three. I don’t know about the tenths.”
Bransome turned to Saroyan. “You want to pay Miss Hahn a visit?”
Saroyan started for the door, but stopped. “What should I tell her?”
“The truth. Tell her there was another murder. Tell her we need to see her car. Don’t accuse her of anything. Let’s get our ducks in a row before her lawyer hears about it.”
Jason chuckled.
Bransome looked at Jason, then back to Saroyan. “Go.” He swung his head back to Jason. “What’s your problem?”
“I thought you said the lawyer was an asshole. Seems like you’re afraid of him.”
“Fuck you.” Bransome stomped to the door and let it slam shut behind him.
Jason looked at Officer Didier. “Sorry about the language. Must be a pleasure to work with him.”
“He’s not usually like this. The DA is really riding him on this one. I guess Agnes’s lawyer is playing hardball.”
“What should I do now?”
“You better stay put. He didn’t say you could leave.”
“What about you?”
“I better stay put, too.”
Jason shook his head.
It took a half hour before Officer Didier settled in the chair opposite Jason. In different clothes, she could be decent looking. Why did a police uniform always defeminize female officers? Maybe the Kevlar vests.
Twenty more minutes of quiet and Jason threw his hands in the air. He pushed his chair back, lifting the front two legs from the floor. “You know anything about this one? Was it the same as the others?”
The question didn’t bring Officer Didier from her trance.
“Come on. You people roused me from a deep sleep, cuffed me, and brought me here for something I didn’t do. Now you say I should stay in this room and wait all day while you chase down leads you should’ve already had. I think I’ve been
Jason looked around. Bransome was flanked by Detective Saroyan and a female officer he hadn’t seen before. He touched the table in front of him. There had to be a master blueprint for police station interrogation rooms. He’d seen several, and they were all alike. “Where’s Agnes?”
Bransome paced behind the sterile table. “She’s at home. It’s Wilson’s shift again.”
“You brought me in and left her at home? Who’s the suspect here?”
“She has an asshole lawyer. You don’t.”
Jason touched the gash on his head. It still oozed a little fluid. “That could change.” He paused. “Did Agnes leave her house? You had it staked out, right?”
“Didier had the night shift.” Bransome turned to face the officer.
Officer Didier cleared her throat. “She’s as regular as clockwork. Downstairs lights go out and the porch light comes on at 6:30. The light in her bedroom goes on, and then the blue glow of the television. Light and TV go off at 9:30 sharp. Nothing but the porch light until seven the next morning. You could set your clock by her schedule.”
“How about last night?”
Bransome stepped forward and glared at Jason. “How about if we ask the questions?”
Didier looked at Bransome and then at Jason. “Same thing last night as all the others.”
Jason rubbed his eyes. “Where was the murder?”
“You don’t know?”
He looked down, shook his head, and exhaled. “I haven’t seen Agnes since I dropped her off. I just got back in town yesterday, around suppertime.”
Bransome stared, as if he were running a telepathic lie detector.
Jason blew out a breath. “Where was it?”
“In Point Arena.”
Jason put his hands to his mouth. “They’re getting closer.” He slapped his hands on the table, startling everyone but Bransome. “Do you want to know if she went anywhere?”
“I thought you didn’t know anything about this.”
“I don’t. When I drove her home, I wrote down the odometer reading.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and lifted a scrap of paper from the money compartment. “When I pulled in the garage, it was at twenty-one thousand, four fifty-three. I don’t know about the tenths.”
Bransome turned to Saroyan. “You want to pay Miss Hahn a visit?”
Saroyan started for the door, but stopped. “What should I tell her?”
“The truth. Tell her there was another murder. Tell her we need to see her car. Don’t accuse her of anything. Let’s get our ducks in a row before her lawyer hears about it.”
Jason chuckled.
Bransome looked at Jason, then back to Saroyan. “Go.” He swung his head back to Jason. “What’s your problem?”
“I thought you said the lawyer was an asshole. Seems like you’re afraid of him.”
“Fuck you.” Bransome stomped to the door and let it slam shut behind him.
Jason looked at Officer Didier. “Sorry about the language. Must be a pleasure to work with him.”
“He’s not usually like this. The DA is really riding him on this one. I guess Agnes’s lawyer is playing hardball.”
“What should I do now?”
“You better stay put. He didn’t say you could leave.”
“What about you?”
“I better stay put, too.”
Jason shook his head.
It took a half hour before Officer Didier settled in the chair opposite Jason. In different clothes, she could be decent looking. Why did a police uniform always defeminize female officers? Maybe the Kevlar vests.
Twenty more minutes of quiet and Jason threw his hands in the air. He pushed his chair back, lifting the front two legs from the floor. “You know anything about this one? Was it the same as the others?”
The question didn’t bring Officer Didier from her trance.
“Come on. You people roused me from a deep sleep, cuffed me, and brought me here for something I didn’t do. Now you say I should stay in this room and wait all day while you chase down leads you should’ve already had. I think I’ve been
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