Sloan's attention moved to Marcus and the men visible through the open doorway. "And who are they?"
"Friends of the suspect. Military men. They're trying to pressure me into releasing her."
"We're scheduled participants in the fundraiser," Marcus said. "We've kept our distance."
Sloan did not ask for the event schedule, even though a copy lay in a plastic sleeve on his own desk. He looked at Vanessa's cuffed wrists and then at the shopping bag Harlan placed beside a keyboard. To him, the scene represented the kind of disruption that endangered a relationship with a wealthy tenant. He wanted it to end, and he wanted it to end with no blame falling on mall management.
"Have a seat, Ms..."
"Cole," Vanessa said. "Vanessa Cole. I would prefer to stand until the cuffs are removed."
Sloan lifted his eyebrows. "Then perhaps we should get the facts straight first."
"That is what I've been asking for since the beginning."
He picked up the store phone. "Arthur? Derek Sloan in security. I have a customer here with a questioned transaction. I'd like you to confirm the authorization and whether there is a fraud alert."
He listened. Vanessa watched his face settle into an expression of mild irritation. Whatever answer he had expected was not the one he was receiving. He asked the same question twice, then requested the transaction time and approval code. Finally he hung up.
"The payment cleared," he said, directing the information toward Harlan. "The store says there was no stolen-card notification or failed identity check. They've got an authorization code."
"Then please remove the cuffs," Vanessa said.
Sloan paused. "Officer?"
Harlan stared at her for a moment before stepping behind her. He unlocked the restraints with quick, impatient movements. Vanessa brought her hands forward slowly. A red line circled each wrist, darker where the metal had pressed against the tendons. She flexed her fingers and felt a brief prickling sensation before the pain settled into a deep ache.
"I'll need photographs of these marks," she said.
Harlan laughed once. "You planning to sue everybody?"
"I'm planning to document what happened."
A younger mall guard standing beside the monitors looked down at the floor. His name was Eli Porter, and he had watched the group arrive from the security console. He had been hired three months earlier after working as a night porter in a hospital. Until that afternoon, his instructions about suspicious customers had sounded straightforward: report what you see, follow the chain of command, avoid confronting anyone without a reason. Now he could see that information had traveled through that chain and changed shape on its way upward.
Sloan pressed his hands flat on the desk. "All right. The merchandise was paid for. We can consider that matter resolved. But there's still a serious problem with the disturbance in the atrium."
Vanessa turned to him. "What disturbance?"
"A crowd gathered. Businesses were interrupted. An officer had difficulty performing his duties."
"Because he handcuffed me after I showed him the receipt."
"We're not here to assign blame, Ms. Cole."