Page 48 of Her Final Hours
Outside the room, Noah turned to her. He had been admiring her keen eye back at the Fish and Game building, and the way she handled herself in an intense situation. “You just keep surprising me, Thorne.”
“That’s what your brother used to say,” she said. “What now?”
“Now we have a word with Patrick.”
The Adirondack Sheriff’sOffice interview room was freezing because the power had gone out earlier, and something hadblown on the heater, causing no end of trouble to the maintenance crew who’d come to fix it.
Through the one-way mirror, Noah observed Patrick Bromide, letting him stew in all the comfort of being alone in a small and cramped room that barely accommodated a worn-out table and three mismatched chairs. The claustrophobic space made it difficult for anyone to maneuver around comfortably.
“He seems too young to be involved,” Callie said.
“Mid-twenties, time for shoplifting. They are getting younger by the day.”
“I mean to be involved with some of the older cases. And what’s his angle?”
“That’s what I’m hoping to find out,” Noah said, going around to the door that led them in. The atmosphere in the room was heavy with anticipation as they prepared to question him.
“I’m freezing,” was the first thing out of Patrick’s mouth. “Do you think I can get a coffee or something?”
Callie went to get one.
As he settled in, Noah couldn’t help but notice the absence of warmth in the room. A chilly draft swept in under the door, causing Patrick to shiver. “Yeah, sorry about that. The power malfunctioned, but they managed to get it up and running. It should warm up soon. Heck, depending on our questions, it might warm up even sooner for you,” he said.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“No? What about lying?”
“I never lied.”
“You did to your old man. It seems old Pop isn’t too happy about all the attention you’ve sent him. Especially with him trying to help you out. You know, keep you on the straight and narrow.”
Patrick dipped his head. Callie returned and handed him acoffee. She took a seat beside Noah. “All right, I’m told you’ve waived your right to legal counsel.”
“I have nothing to hide.”
“Let’s hope so.” Noah took a deep breath and began the interview, his voice cutting through the cold silence. He carefully chose his words to avoid provoking a defensive response, though he expected to get one either way. “How about we start with the van? We know you didn’t drive it to the Fish and Game Hunting Club this morning. So, tell me about that?” His words hung in the air, mingling with the visible vapor of his breath.
Patrick sat nervously in one of the creaky chairs, his hands fidgeting with anxiety. The light cast shadows on his face, making it difficult to discern his true intentions. Noah knew that gaining his trust and extracting information shouldn’t be too hard since he could be sent back to prison. He exchanged a glance with Callie, silently reassuring each other of their resolve.
Simultaneously, Callie maintained a vigilant gaze, observing Patrick’s body language for any telltale signs of deception or nervousness.
“Eduardo asked me to borrow it.”
“And you just let him?”
“I didn’t want to, okay, but I owed him. He kept me safe when I was inside.”
“So what did he tell you he wanted it for?”
“You know, to carry a few things in.”
“Patrick.”
“I don’t know. He just said he needed it and had to pick up some things at a house on the east side. Because of his record, he figured the cops wouldn’t think twice if they saw one of our vans outside a residential area. What with us being 24-7 emergency on-call.”
Noah glanced at Callie. She’d said the same thing earlier.
“And you didn’t think that sounded a little odd?”
