“He does that too,” Vince said. “He’s greedy. He does everything.”
“Now that we know my relationship with Vincent,” George said to Ricki, “what’s your relationship with him?”
It was the question Ricki was dreading. They slept together last night. They made love this morning. In fact they made it again in the shower. But did that make for a realrelationship? She didn’t answer that question. She couldn’t. She looked to the much more experienced Vince to provide the answer.
But what he said disappointed her.
“This isn’t about her,” he responded. “This is about her sister.”
Ricki could see George glance at her, as if he knew it was a non-answer too. He now would view her as some sex toy for Vince rather than somebody he respected and cared about. It made her wonder if that was what Vince thought of her too: as asex toy? He certainly hadn’t told her otherwise. He hadn’t told her anything! But why would he? They went there with each other, foolishly, when they barely knew each other. It was out of character for her. She never did one-night stands. Would Vince end up being her first?
George felt bad for the girl. She seemed like a decent sort. But she should have known better than to fool around with somebody obviously way out of her league. “What about her sister?” he asked Vince. “You told me nothing over the phone other than to drop what I was doing and to get my ass to Milton.”
“She’s been accused of murdering a local OB/GYN. Dr. Proctor,” Ricki said. She knew nobody could explain it better than her. “But she didn’t kill him. I know she didn’t.”
“Oh good. You have evidence to the contrary?”
“Evidence, no. But I know my sister.”
George looked at Vince as if he’d lost his mind. “I know you didn’t drag me all the way from D.C. for ashe didn’t do itdefense with no evidence that she didn’t do it. I don’t take on unwinnable criminal cases and you know this, Vincent.”
“It’s not unwinnable,” Ricki said. “We just need investigators.”
“And we’ll get them,” said Vince. “Don’t mind George.”
George settled back down. “How did it happen?”
“We don’t know.”
George frowned. “What do you mean we don’t know?”
“Watch your tone with her,” Vince warned.
“Sorry about that,” said George. Then he used the exact same tone: “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to her yet. We’re going to see her at the jail now. She’ll tell us.”
George looked at Vince. And when Vince didn’t make the young lady tell him more, he just leaned back. And looked at his nails. “I missed my manicure appointment for this,” he said.
Ricki couldn’t believe he said that. Her sister was rotting in that jail and he was worried about his nails? She looked at him with disgust on her face. Vince laughed.
But when they got to the jail house, it was no laughing matter.
When they walked into the small police station, it seemed as if almost every cop in that building was running back and forth from one of the jail cells at the end of the hall. George immediately hurried over to the front desk. “What’s going on?” he asked the desk sergeant.
“Nothing’s going on,” the sergeant lied. “How may I help you?”
“I’m here to see my client.” George, Vince, and Ricki were staring at the frenzied activity in the building.
The sergeant looked at the computer. “Who’s your client?”
George realized he didn’t even know her name himself. He looked at Ricki. “Erica Richardson,” she said.
And when she said it, the sergeant looked at them as if he was looking at ghosts. “Wait just a minute,” he said and quickly picked up the desk phone.
But all three of them knew something was wrong. “Is that my sister’s cell their running to?” Ricki asked the sergeant.
“Didn’t I say just a minute?” They could hear the panic in his voice as he waited for somebody to pick up on the other line. “The Chief will talk to you.”
