“A misunderstanding is taking the wrong coat from a restaurant.”
He gestured toward his wrists.
“This was a sequence of decisions.”
Briggs swallowed.
“You’re free to leave.”
“I was free to leave before Officer Holloway approached me.”
“We are conducting a review.”
“Detective Cole is conducting it.”
Briggs looked toward Daniel.
“This is a patrol matter.”
Sam’s eyes sharpened.
“Detective Cole.”
It was not a request.
Briggs understood.
“Of course.”
Then Sam finally saw Patricia.
For twenty-three years they had developed a language built from small movements.
She did not run.
Did not cry.
She walked to him.
Looked at the marks around his wrists.
Then his face.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good answer.”
He almost smiled.
She lifted her phone.
“Photographs.”
“Already taken.”
“By whom?”
“Cole.”
Patricia looked at Daniel.
He nodded.
She relaxed one degree.
“Ten minutes are up.”
Daniel checked the clock.
“You gave me twenty.”
“I lied.”