Sylvie let the copied article she was reading fall back into the folder and reached for the envelope.
A series of loud thumps sounded from the other room.
“Police,” a muffled voice shouted from the hall. “Open the door. We have a warrant to search the premises.”
Bryce met Sylvie’s desperate eyes. They’d barely scratched the surface. He needed to study the folder, to find out exactly what Diana Gale saw fit to collect, what she knew about Dryden, and when she knew it. And most of all, he needed to read that letter. If it was from Dryden and he had sent it last month, it might give Bryce everything he needed.
Sylvie stuffed the letter back into the folder and snapped it shut. “I can’t give them this.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“I don’t know. But I can’t just hand it over. Detective Perreth will only use it to twist things, not to find Diana.”
“You can’t take it. That’s removing evidence. It’s a criminal action.”
“It might be my only chance to find my sister.”
And Bryce’s only chance... No, he couldn’t.
Could he?
Sylvie ran her hands over her gown. “I was going to change clothes. Why didn’t I change clothes?”
There was no room in that dress to smuggle a folder, that was for damn sure.
Sylvie started for the door. “I’ll throw it in my suitcase. I’ll say I came to pack my clothes.”
“If this detective has a brain in his head, he’ll want to search your suitcase before he lets you walk out of here.”
Bryce heard voices and the jangle of keys.
Sylvie looked around the room like a trapped animal. “What am I going to do?”
Bryce was an officer of the court. He couldn’t interfere with a legal search warrant. He couldn’t.
But could he give up the only lead he had?
“Oh, hell. Give it to me.”
“What?”
It was crazy. Deluded. Definitely criminal.
Bryce watched his hand extend toward her, palm up, as if it was part of someone else’s body. “Give me the folder.”
Sylvie handed it to him.
He tossed his briefcase onto the desk, popped the locks and stuffed the folder inside. “Go ahead and pack your clothes. Quickly. I’ll answer the door.”
Sylvie
Sylvie jammed jeans, sweaters and toiletries into her suitcase. Her fingers were shaking so badly, she could barely grip the zipper and force it closed. In the other room she could hear the hum of voices. Perreth’s blunt rasp followed by Bryce’s level baritone.
When Bryce had hidden the folder in his briefcase, she’d been shocked. Sure, she’d asked for his help, for an answer to her dilemma, but she hadn’t been expecting him to give her either. She certainly hadn’t expected him to stick out his neck for her. No one had ever stuck their neck out for her.
So why had he done it?
Sylvie was sure he had his reasons, but she didn’t have time to figure it out now. She finished closing the zipper and set the suitcase on its wheels. It was time to get out of here and get back to finding Diana.
Before it was too late.
Sylvie marched out of the office and down the hall. A small handful of police officers had already fanned out in the living room. Near the center of the room, Detective Perreth glowered at Bryce. Sylvie could smell his cologne of stale cigarettes.
“Nice to see you again, Ms. Hayes.” He glanced at a uniformed officer who had begun sorting through the drawers in the coffee table. “Schmidt?”
“Detective?”
“Take a look through Ms. Hayes’s suitcase, will you? We wouldn’t want her removing anything other than her personal clothing from the suspect’s apartment.” He grinned, showing nicotine-yellowed teeth. “It’s all right if he takes a look, isn’t it?”
Giving him an equally phony smile, Sylvie left her suitcase at the mercy of the officer and reached out a hand to Perreth. “I want to see the warrant.”
“I already showed it to your boyfriend here. And the super.”
Bryce gave her a confirming nod.
“I asked you to stay at the church,” the detective said. “Care to explain why that didn’t happen?”
“I had things to do.”
“Like what? Rushing to your sister’s apartment to remove evidence?”
Hot pressure built in her head until it made her ears ring. This whole situation was so stupid. A judgmental cop throwing his weight around. And all the while, Diana was in danger. He should be finding her, not blaming her.
“I came back to change out of this dress and move my things to a hotel. That’s all.”
He eyed her gown. “What stopped you?”
“I did,” Bryce said. “We had some things to discuss.”
Things to discuss? Sylvie bit the inside of her cheek. Why would Bryce make a vague claim like that? Surely the detective would want to know more. Maybe enough to detain him for questioning. Or search his briefcase.
Next to her, the officer finished turning over her clothes and makeup.
“See, Detective?” she said. “Nothing. Can we go now?”
“Not so fast.” Perreth focused his glare fully on Bryce. “What did you have to discuss that was so urgent?”
Bryce shrugged. “Doesn’t that go without saying? Sylvie’s sister disappeared.”
“And what do you have in the briefcase?”
Bryce offered the detective a bland smile. “Papers.”
“Maybe we should take a look at those papers.”
“Sorry. Can’t let you do that.”
Perreth raised bushy brows. “Oh?”
“My briefcase is not listed in your warrant, for one thing.”
“Maybe not. But if I suspect you of removing evidence from the scene…”
Bryce shook his head. “As an officer of the court, I can assure you that’s not the case.”
“You’re a lawyer?” The detective pronounced the word as if it were composed of four letters.
Bryce gave him a cool nod. Turning to Sylvie, he cocked his head in the direction of the door.
Letting out the breath she was holding, Sylvie grabbed the handle of her suitcase and took a step toward escape.
“Not so fast,” Perreth barked.
Sylvie’s pulse pounded so hard it made her feel as if she was wobbling on her feet. Now what?
“Ms. Hayes still hasn’t answered my questions. She’s coming to the station with me.”
The hum echoed through Sylvie’s head, drowning out the beat of her pulse. She couldn’t waste time sitting around the police station answering Perreth’s pointless questions. Didn’t they say that the first few hours were crucial to locating a missing person?
Bryce reached into the outside pocket of his briefcase and pulled out a business card. He held it out to Perreth. “Like I said. I’m a lawyer. Sylvie’s lawyer. And my client will be happy to talk to you. If you give my office a call, we’ll set something up.”
Val
Valerie Ryker hadn’t worked weekends since her days as police chief of the tiny Lake Loyal police department. But when she ventured into the bar of The Lake Loyal Supper Club on this cool, fall evening, it wasn’t to wait for a table to open up.
She spotted Harlan Runk bellied up, clutching his usual brandy old fashioned sweet. The man always looked as if he’d just wandered in from a multi-week hunting trip in the wilderness. Tousled gray hair. Ruddy skin. And eyebrows that resembled a bramble of wild blackberry. At least that hadn’t changed.
His delight at seeing her hadn’t changed either.
“Sweet buns! I missed you!” He kissed her on both cheeks, awkward, inappropriate, and somehow chivalrous all at the same time.