Instead of enjoying one of the loungers, Amber went to the small square table and sat in one of the seats. The female guard waved and said, “Ma’am, if you’d just step through here.”
Amber did so without setting off any alarms. You won’t have to enjoy your earnings from a jail cell. “Ah. Castor. Despite the blood on the clothes and papers, she packed them, preferring not to leave them behind. “I should sign that before you move on.”
Phillip seemed relieved she wasn’t pushing for the box number as he handed Amber her pen. Apparently, her escort didn’t feel the same way about uncomfortable silences. “Gwen Bartlet here to see Phillip Castor as his defense attorney.”
The man picked up a tablet and skimmed through it. It was understandable; the information he held had been his lifeline for so long that the possibility of giving it up had to seem tantamount to suicide.
