hell. “Give it to me.”
“What?”
It was crazy. Deluded. Definitely criminal. He watched his hand extend toward her, palm up. As if it was part of someone else’s body. As if someone else was taking this leap into the abyss. “Give me the folder.”
She 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.”
Chapter Three
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 before.
So why had he done it?
He had to have his reasons. But she didn’t have time to discover them now. The only thing that mattered right this second was that she and Bryce leave Diana’s apartment with that folder. She needed to get a look at the letter, the clippings. She needed some sort of break if she hoped to find her sister. And she needed that break now.
She finished closing the zipper, set the suitcase on its wheels and extended the handle. It was time to get out of here and get back to finding Diana.
Before it was too late.
She 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 from under his bushy brows. Sylvie could smell his cologne of stale cigarettes as soon as she entered the room.
“Nice to see you again, Ms. Hayes.” He glanced at a uniformed officer who had begun sorting through the drawers in the coffee table. “Thomas?”
“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?”
“Of course.” Giving him an equally phony smile, Sylvie left her suitcase at the mercy of the officer and stepped toward Perreth. “I want to see the warrant.”
“I already showed it to your boyfriend here. And the super. It’s legal.”
Towering next to Perreth’s squatty frame, 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 of premeditation?”
Hot pressure built in her head until it made her ears ring. This whole situation was so stupid. A figment of Perreth’s imagination. An attempt to smear Reed and Diana. To get revenge for Reed’s reaction to Perreth hitting his wife. And all the while he was wasting his time suspecting Diana, she was in danger. He should be finding her, not blaming her.
She gripped the stained satin of her gown in her fists and choked down the words she wanted to spit at him. Making Perreth angry would get her nowhere. She needed to get out of here and find Diana. “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’s voice rippled like waves in water. “We had some things to discuss.”
Things to discuss? Sylvie bit the inside of her cheek. Bryce wasn’t going to tell Detective Perreth about their conversation, was he? No. That didn’t make sense. But why would he want to draw Perreth’s attention with a vague claim like that? Surely the detective would want to know more. Maybe enough to detain him for questioning. Or to search his briefcase.
Next to her, the officer finished turning over her clothes and makeup.
Sylvie gestured in his direction. “See, Detective? Nothing. Can we go now?”
“Not so fast.” Perreth focused his glare fully on Bryce. Now that Bryce had given him a bone, he obviously didn’t intend to give it up so easily. “What was so urgent?”
Bryce shrugged. “Doesn’t that go without saying? Sylvie’s sister disappeared.”
Perreth frowned. He focused on the briefcase in Bryce’s hand. “And what do you have in the briefcase?”
Sylvie sucked in a breath and held it.
Bryce offered the detective a bland smile. “Papers.”
“Maybe we should take a look at those papers.”
The uniformed officer stepped toward Bryce.
Bryce held up a hand. “I’m sorry. I 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.
She halted. Her 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.”
No. 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? She had to get out of here. She had to find Diana.
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 secretary a call, she’ll set something up.”
SAFELY OUTSIDE Diana’s building, Sylvie lowered herself into the plush passenger seat of Bryce’s
