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“Can I get her camera for her?” Before I could answer, he asked, “Do you want me to come with you? I should probably come with you.” His tone turned defensive, and I knew he wanted to see the guy for himself.
“I’ll find out about the camera when I get there, but I think it’s evidence now, so she probably can’t have it back yet,” I told him. “I’m in the police parking lot now, so I’ll just head in and identify him. You should go tell Cassie they got him.”
“I will. Thanks, and be careful,” he said.
“It’s fine. I’ll call you after.”
I shoved the phone in my pocket and sucked in a breath as I walked through the station’s glass doors. A woman sat behind a reception desk in the waiting room, finishing up a call as I headed toward her.
“Can I help you?” she asked when she put down the phone.
“I’m Dean Carter. Officer Santos asked me to come down to identify a suspect.”
“Have a seat, please.” She pointed toward the row of chairs. “I’ll be right back.”
I sat down and tapped my feet, my nerves stretched taut as I waited for her to return. I definitely wasn’t looking forward to seeing this guy again. Just being here brought back unpleasant memories.
The glass doors swung open, and I was surprised when Brett walked in.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He gave me a friendly slap on the back before sitting next to me. “Jack told me they got the guy. Thought I could help identify him.”
“Cool. Thanks. How was Jack?”
Brett blew out a breath. “Mixed. He seemed relieved, but I think he wanted to catch the guy before the cops did.”
“That wouldn’t have been a good thing.”
He nodded. “I know. We all tried to tell him that, but he’s unreasonable when it comes to Cassie.”
“Nah, he’s just in love. And Jack’s protective of people he cares about,” I said, used to defending my brother’s level of intensity.
The receptionist seemed surprised to see Brett when she came back to the waiting room. “Oh, now there’s two of you? I’ll let Officer Santos know. He should be right out.”
Brett and I made small talk as we waited for Santos. I wondered what the hell was taking so long; it wasn’t as if the station was busy. No sooner had the thought entered my mind than the doors to my right swung open.
Officer Santos stepped toward us, his hand extended, “Dean. Brett. Good to see you again. You’re looking much better than the last time I saw you,” he said to me with a nod.
“Thanks.”
/> “Follow me,” Santos said, and we trailed behind.
He led us down a long corridor and into a viewing room. A large pane of glass that I hoped was a one-way mirror was inset in one of the walls, and five guys stood on the other side of it, looking like they’d rather be anywhere else than here.
Officer Santos explained how things would work. “You can see them, but they can’t see you. They know you’re in here, though. Just let me know if you recognize—”
“Three,” Brett and I both blurted at the same time.
Officer Santos nodded before pressing a button on the wall. “You can send them back, thanks.” He turned toward us and shook his head with a grin. “You didn’t even let me do the fun part.”
“What part was that?” I asked.
“Asking them to step forward, turn to the left, then to the right. It’s the only part that makes them really nervous.”
“Sorry. I’d rather just get this all over with,” I admitted, although the idea of torturing the prick sounded fun in a sadistic, vengeful way.
“I understand. Thank you both for coming in.”
