“Who are you?” she asked, her gaze darting between them as she propped her hands on slender hips.
Sam had found the one unicorn in America who didn’t know who she was. She showed her badge while Freddie did the same. “Lieutenant Holland, Detective Cruz from the Metro PD. We’d like to speak to you about the murder of Pam Tappen.”
To her credit, her expression offered no reaction to the mention of Pam’s name. “Who?”
“The woman your father was having an affair with.”
“My dad isn’t having an affair.”
“We already know you confronted your father and Pam about the affair in the parking lot of a restaurant.”
She stared blankly at them.
Sam gestured for Freddie to check her backpack and waited while he produced a slim silver laptop and an iPhone, both of which would be entered into evidence.
“I’d like to speak to a lawyer,” Grace said.
“We can arrange that for you downtown.” Sam took a pause to allow that information to register with Grace, who seemed to flinch at the realization she was being arrested. “If you come quietly, we can escort you out of here without cuffs, but we’ll need to cuff you for the ride.”
Her subtle nod was the only acknowledgment she gave.
The three of them walked out of the conference room together and toward the main doors as the woman who’d met them came after them.
“You can’t just take her!”
“Yes, we can,” Sam said. “We’re trying not to make a scene of it. Maybe you could do the same?”
The woman stopped in her tracks as she cast a frantic look at Grace, probably fearing parental retaliation for allowing the police to take her from the school. That wasn’t Sam’s problem. Outside, they walked a block from the school before they cuffed Grace and led her to Sam’s car, helping her into the back seat for the ride to HQ.
Their passenger never made a sound on the fifteen-minute ride.
Sam drove around to the morgue entrance to avoid the press camped outside the main door. If they were wrong about Grace, she had no desire to ruin the young woman’s life, but she didn’t think they were wrong.
Acting on a hunch, she brought Grace with her when she stepped into the cold, antiseptic-smelling morgue, where Dr. Lindsey McNamara was downing a wrap for lunch while she worked on the computer.
“Hey, LT, Detective. What’s up?” Lindsey asked, eyeing Grace.
“We’d like to see Pam Tappen, please.”
“What?” Grace said, recoiling. “I don’t want to see her!”
“Too bad.”
Every instinct she had told her this young woman had played a role in Pam’s death. She nodded to Lindsey as she tightened her grip on Grace’s arm so she couldn’t escape.
“You can’t make me look at dead people!”
“Yes, I can.”
“I want a lawyer!”
“I’ll get you one.”
“You have to get me one the minute I ask.”
“No, I have to get you one before I can interview you.”
From inside the actual morgue, Lindsey signaled to Sam to come in.