"Never?" said Dorset. "Never's a long time. I may as well tell you now, I've got affidavits coming from a couple of people up to the Inn."
"Who?" Meg tightened her hand on Quill's shoulder. "What kind of - Quill, what's the matter with your shoulder!?"
"Gave me a bit of trouble," said Dorset.
Meg's face turned white. John took an involuntary step forward.
"You watch it, Raintree," said Dorset. "I've read your record."
Quill stood up and grabbed John. Meg regained her breath and shrieked, "You hit my sister!"
"Meg, I'm fine. Let's not get too excited here, okay?"
"QUlLL, for God's sake. What the hell do you mean, gave you a bit of trouble? Who the hell do you think you are?"
"Deputy'll bear me out on that."
"The hell he will," stormed Meg, who'd apparently lost the variety of curses usually at her disposal. "Get out of my way, you son of a bitch. I'm taking my sister home! Howie?!"
Howie folded up the warrant and tossed it on the desk. "I'd like to see this videotape."
"File a request with the judge."
"And this physical evidence found at the scene?"
"Envelope from the Inn. Says so right at the top. Decedent's name written in the accused's handwriting on the front."
"Who identified the handwriting?"
"File a request with the judge."
"Did the medical examiner give a preliminary cause of death?"
Dorset grinned. "Nope."
"He must have had some idea."
"Didn't say a word to me."
"You didn't ask him?"
"Didn't have to. Pretty much could see for myself."
"She was stabbed," Quill said tiredly. "With what seemed to be one of the knives from our kitchen."
Meg's hand jumped. Quill didn't think it was possible for her to get any more pale, but she did. "Oh, no, Meg! I saw the videotape. He showed me. It's right there."
John's right hand shot out like a snake. He pulled the cassette from the viewer and turned toward the door, seemingly all in one motion.
"Hold it," snarled Dorset. He snapped open his holster and drew his pistol. Meg screamed in furious indignation.
Howie said, "Put it away, Sheriff. John?"
"No," John said.
"You have to. Give it back."
"You're going to leave it with this bastard? There's no telling what he'll do with it."
"It's the law," said Howie. "I'm sorry."
"Is Quill coming back with us?"
Howie looked at the sheriff questioningly. Dorset shook his head.
"Don't be a fool, Dorset. I'll get in front of a real judge tomorrow and she'll be out by nightfall."
"File a request with a judge."
John set the videotape on the desk. "This is some kind of setup, Howie."
"That's clear. The question is, why? Dorset, I'd like a few minutes alone with my client."
"Sorry."
"What the - " Howie calmed himself with a visible effort, "You can't deny her counsel."
"When she's accused of something, I can't, you're right about that. But she's being held as a witness. I got thirty-six hours before I have to let you talk to her at all. Now, tomorrow? Tomorrow after she's been accused of this murder, you can have all the time you want with her." His eyes flicked over Quill's breasts. John made a fierce noise.
"Wait for me in the car, will you, John?" said Howie.
"Murchison. This is bullshit. Absolute bullshit."
"I know. It's better if you wait for me in the car. Trust me, Please."
John shook his head and buttoned his coat. "I'll walk back to the Inn."
"You sure? It's cold out there."
"I need it." John paused in the doorway and looked back. Dorset shifted from one foot to the other under the stare, John opened the door, slid out noiselessly, and was gone.
Quill cleared her throat. "There's nothing we can do, is there, Howie?"
Meg's face was fierce, "What do you mean?! Of course there is! You're not going to leave her here!"
"I don't have much choice, Meg."
"Choice? What do you mean, choice? She's got to stay in here? Overnight?!"
Quill tried a laugh. A little weak, but a laugh nonetheless. "You didn't think a day in jail was so awful this morning, Meg."
"That was different. I thought it might teach you something about traffic tickets."
"Oh, you did, did you?"
"Well, yeah! You can't just go around thinking you're above the law. You can't - " She bit her words off in mid-sentence. "So she has to stay here? Then I'm staying, too."
"No, you're not," said Dorset.
"I am not leaving my sister in the Tompkins County jail overnight and that's that."
"There's only one cot in the cell," said Quill.
"So one of us can sleep on the floor."
"Which one? It's concrete. And cold."
"Concrete." Meg set her chin. "So what? I don't trust this creep."
"Meg, I'll be fine. Come by in the morning with some hot coffee, will you? And a toothbrush and stuff like that. I'll be better off if you're on the outside." She forced herself to smile. "Honest. You can nag Howie into getting bail set for me as early as possible. Okay?"
Meg scowled.
"Please, Meg. We'll get this all straightened out in the morning."
"What do you think, Howie?"
The lawyer's steady gaze had never really left Dorset. "I think," he said easily, "that Frank here ought to remember the number of friends I have on the State Supreme Court."
"Sure thing, Counselor."
"I want to see where she's going to be for the night."
"Suit yourself."
Dorset slouched through the metal door labeled LOCK UP. Meg put her arm around Quill's waist and, with Howie leading the way, they followed Dorset into the cell. The overhead light was harsh, the cell as bare as it had been that morning.
"She'll need another blanket," said Meg. Dorset grunted and returned to the office.
Meg glared after him and turned to Quill. "And a nightgown. You can't sleep in that skirt and sweater."
"I'll be fine," said Quill, who had no intention of taking off her clothes within thirty blocks of Frank Dorset. She gave Meg a warning pinch.
Meg stared back at her, reached over, hugged her, and whispered, "Use it. If you have to. Even if you don't." She slipped the paring knife she'd been sharpening in the kitchen into Quill's hand. Quill slid it into her skirt pocket, then sat on the cot.
Dorset returned and tossed a thin wool blanket through the open door, then gestured Meg and Howie out of the cell. He clanged the door shut and locked it. Despite herself, Quill shivered.
"I'll take the key," said Howie. "The hell you will."