Chapter 16: Served

Gwen did not come down.

She backed up until the lectern stopped her.

"I want my lawyer," she said.

"You can call one from the station," the detective said. "Right now I'm asking you politely."

The two officers started up the steps.

Gwen looked out at the ballroom, at all the faces she had sold to, and found nobody looking at her with love.

She went down on her own.

She walked up the aisle between the officers with her hoops swinging, past her gold chairs and the women who had stood up to watch her go.

Someone near the door booed, and then half the room did.

The detective stayed behind a moment.

"Ms. Hartley," she said to me. "Don't leave town, and don't delete anything. I'll call you Monday."

"I won't."

"Good."

I went down the steps with my legs not working right.

Jenna caught my arm.

Patricia stood on the other side of me, small and gray, with the microphone still in her hand.

She gave it to an usher and said nothing to me.

She just touched my sleeve, once, and went to find her car.

I looked for Miles at the back of the room.

He was already gone.

On the A/V table, the volunteer sat with my thumb drive in her hand, waiting to give it back.

The parking garage was on the lower level, concrete and cold.

Jenna went ahead to get the car.

I was walking to the elevator when I heard footsteps behind me, running.

"Willa."

Dean had followed me down the stairs.

He stopped four feet away, with his hands open.

"Please, one minute."

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