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Why hadn’t I tried to stop him?
I didn’t have time to dwell on it because a sudden burst of agitated male voices interrupted my thoughts. I turned just as two men rounded the corner, Chief Larson on their heels.
The chief hadn’t changed much over the years, although his salt-and-pepper hair was grayer and his large belly had grown larger. Of course, more wrinkles covered his face. He wasn’t a tall man, so I noticed how he shuffled as he walked.
My focus quickly turned to the other two men approaching me. The first one had on dress pants, a button-up shirt and a tie that screamed attorney, paired with an air of confidence and arrogance that guaranteed it. That arrogance came from the knowledge that he could stall a police investigation with merely a few words to his client, telling them not to answer.
The second man took me by surprise.
James Malcolm.
He wore a brown leather jacket and a pair of worn jeans that looked like they’d aged the old-fashioned way. The dark look in his eyes told me he hadn’t enjoyed his visit to the station this morning, but he wasn’t going to stir up trouble either.
“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Malcolm,” the chief said amiably, but the vindictive look in his eyes suggested he didn’t mean it.
Malcolm continued out the door, casting me a momentary glance as he passed me—so brief I would have missed it if I hadn’t been outright staring at him. As he pushed the door open, he lifted his right hand and flipped the chief the bird without a single glance back. His attorney followed close behind.
“And here’s shit stirrer number two,” the chief said, turning his attention to me. “Harper Adams. Didn’t bring an attorney?”
I lifted a brow and gave him a cheesy smile. I had no idea how skilled of an interviewer he was, but if he was even halfway decent, he was sure to notice if I showed any sign of agitation. “Should I have? I got the impression this was a friendly chat.”
He gave me a dark glare, then grunted, “Come with me,” before turning back down the hall he’d come from.
I followed, taking in the stained ceiling and overall grimy appearance that looked like it needed a thorough cleaning. But I suspected no amount of scrubbing was going to get this place clean. What it needed was a good coat of paint…or a wrecking ball. Given the budget, it wasn’t likely to get either.
The chief led me to his office, which I took as a good sign. I’d been fifty/fifty on whether he was leading me to an interrogation room.
He settled behind his desk, the leather office chair creaking. I took a chair in front of the desk, ignoring the large rip in the faux leather that revealed the dirty, stained foam underneath. I needed to focus on looking normal, whatever that meant.
Resting my arms on the arms of the chair, I said, “What can I do for you, Chief?”
“What can you do for me?” he demanded, his face flushing. “What the hell were you doing at the Petermans’ house this morning?”
“My mother told me that Ava was missing, so I went to check on Vanessa.”
“And you started snooping?”
“I asked some questions and looked around the little girl’s room.” And then because I couldn’t help myself, I added dryly, “Unlike your officers.”
His face flushed. “You don’t have any idea what my officers were doing.”
“I know they should have sealed her bedroom until they determined why she was missing. They didn’t.”
A feral look filled his eyes. “You think you know better than my officers? You’re the one hiding in disgrace.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
“Who else knows about the ribbon in Andi’s case?” I asked.
He drew in a deep breath and sat back in his office chair. “Your sister’s case is resolved and closed, which means it’s fair game. You of all people should know that anyone who petitions the case files can get them. Hell, you got them yourself. We can stall anyone who requests them, but we ultimately have to release them.”
The Freedom of Information Act was both a blessing and a curse. It all depended on which side of the law you stood on.
“When I got the report when I was twenty, the part about the ribbon had been redacted. Has that changed?”
“No.”
“Has anyone petitioned to see the case?”
