cement floor. “If I hit that instead of having you to catch me…” She met his gaze without blinking. “I could really get hurt, and if I get hurt because you’re negligent and you’ve brought me in here wrongly, well…” She let her words trail off with the threat implied instead of stated.
Vulnerable? Not hardly. “Okay, you can come out with me until a deputy gets back or the doctor arrives.”
Without a word, she went around him, and he found himself in the ludicrous position of following the prisoner out of the lockdown area into the main squad room. She hesitated, then turned to look at him. “Where do you want to chain me?” she asked with what seemed to be complete seriousness.
He walked around her and crossed to his dad’s office near the side entry hall. “In here,” he said, letting her pass him into the work space. As he went in after her, he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a hook by the door, then turned.
This had been his dad’s office for as long as he could remember. It had seemed dark and threatening to him when he’d been a kid, but now it looked tired and mellow. There were worn leather chairs, a wooden desk scarred from thirty years of wear, and filing cabinets that he hadn’t even looked in since filling in at the station. The bottom half of the wall that it shared with the main room was dark wood; the upper part was glass, lined with plain old horizontal blinds. His dad had always kept them open. They were still open.
“You can sit there,” he said, motioning to one of two straight-backed wooden chairs that faced the desk.
She took a seat, then looked up at him and said, “Go ahead. Do your duty.”
She was serious, but he couldn’t be. He found himself smiling at her. “Please, just sit there and be still.” He moved around the desk to drop into the leather swivel chair, and turned to Riley.
“No chains or handcuffs?” she asked.
“No whips and torture, either, if you’ll just promise me you’ll stay put until the doctor gets here.”
“I will, if you promise me you’ll call Chicago and find out the truth.”
He was more than ready to do that. He reached for a notepad and pen. “Okay. First, why don’t you give me the name and number of the attorney who supposedly hired you to drive the car?”
She frowned intently as she sat forward on the wooden seat and pressed the palms of her hands against the edge of his desk. “It begins with an N. Nil-land. No.” She closed her eyes tightly and whispered, “Think, think, think.” Then she said, “Nyland.” Her eyes opened. “Alvin Nyland.”
He had his pen ready. “What’s his number?”
She shrugged and he could see her fingers pressing hard against the wooden top of the desk. “I don’t know. I didn’t think to bring it. But surely he’d be listed. He’s got a huge office in Chicago, takes up a lot of floors in this towering building by the lake, and there are four or five partners in the firm’s name. You know, one of those big, overblown, fancy, money-making law firms?”
Yes, he knew very well what she meant. “Okay, what are the names in the big, overblown, fancy, money-making law firm?”
“I don’t remember, but it sure sounded important and his name’s part of it. Not at the top, but second or third, I think.” She let go of the desk and motioned to the phone. “Just call and give his name to Information. They should have a listing for him. Alvin Nyland,” she repeated, and slowly spelled out the last name letter by letter.
He lifted the receiver and put in a call to Information for Chicago and asked for Alvin Nyland, Attorney. They came up with the number right away, and he hit the button to dial it through, then heard a voice on the other end. “Good afternoon. Wallace, Levin, Geisler, Nyland and Yen. How may I direct your call?”
“Alvin Nyland, please.”
There was a click, soft music, then another voice picked up. “Mr. Nyland’s office.”
“Mr. Nyland, please.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Nyland isn’t available. May I take a message?”
He knew well enough that not being available could mean anything from being in the restroom to being dead. “I need to speak with him. It’s important.”
Riley was sitting forward now, her elbows on the desk, and he didn’t miss the way she crossed her fingers, much the way an earnest child would. “Is he there?” she asked in a tense whisper.
He shook his head as the woman on the other end of the line said, “I’m sorry, sir, he’s out of the office.”
“Where is he?” he asked.
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“Deputy Joshua Pierce from the Silver Creek Police Department in Silver Creek, Nevada. I need to speak to Mr. Nyland about an important matter.”
“Well, I’m so sorry, that’s not possible. He’s on vacation and out of touch.”
“Where?”
She hesitated, then said, “Florida.”
Joshua exhaled. “Okay, maybe you can help me.”
“Any way I can,” she said quickly.
“I need to have some verification about an arrangement he made for a car delivery.”
“A car delivery?” she asked.
“To San Diego. A new BMW sedan.” He watched Riley as he explained the situation. “I need his verification that Miss Shaw is supposed to have it in her possession, and an explanation about the car being reported stolen.”
“Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Mr. Nyland is an investment attorney, and he certainly wouldn’t be involved in car transfers.”
“Do you know the name Riley Shaw?”
“No, sir. I don’t.”
“When will Mr. Nyland be back?”
“I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry. He just said next week sometime.”
Before Joshua hung up, he asked, “Does he have clients named Mindy Sullivan or Barton Wise?”
“Sir, I can’t tell you about his clients. That’s privileged information.”
“All I need is a yes or no, nothing else. If I have to, I’ll get the Chicago police up to your office with the proper legal papers. If you’ll just tell me yes or no, we’ll drop it.”
“Well, just a minute,” she said, and the music came back on the line.
Riley was nibbling nervously on her bottom lip and he had the idea while the secretary was searching her database, that Riley Shaw was either a great liar or a true innocent. As a cop, he prided himself on being able to read people, but this woman was hard to peg.
“Deputy?” the receptionist asked, interrupting Joshua’s thoughts.
