Yolanda held up a stiff finger. “No, bitch, you listen,” she snapped, continuing her rant. “Amber here is graduating in a few months, early might I add, with a full scholarship to Stanford. She is a young, beautiful, educated, black woman and her dad and I worked very hard to make sure she was equipped with everything she needed to succeed. And then, gutter rats like you all, who probably can’t afford anything besides a Four-For-Four at Wendys, come trapezing in and stealing what others have earned.” She spun to McKinney, that damn ponytail swinging over her shoulder. “I want them arrested.”

“What?” Deven didn’t know which part of this three-ring circus was more shocking. “Arrested for what?”

“Hold on a second.” Paul extended an arm across Deven’s chest, probably hoping she didn’t try to fight the abrasive woman.

Yolanda cut her eyes at him. “And who are you? Her lawyer?”

“Now, wait a minute,” Officer McKinney snapped, stepping between the brewing tension. “Everyone, sit down and shut the hell up with the nonsense. Right now.”

Like stubborn children, everyone shuffled to take their seats, Paul and Deven across from Yolanda and her daughter. Glares darted across the table sharp enough to pierce metal, but judging by McKinney’s outburst, everyone knew better than to object or try to speak.

“Now, let’s start this over.” McKinney leaned a hip on the edge of the table and crossed her arms over her breasts. “Ms. Reynolds asked me to look into an Amber Wright name, as she indicated there may be some connection with the death of her sister—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Yolanda was on her feet again. “My daughter is a victim here and you’re trying to bring up crazy allegations?”

“Mrs. Wright, if you don’t get control of yourself, I will escort you out of this precinct,” Officer McKinney said, her tone firm. “Now sit. Down!”

Yolanda obviously didn’t like being told what to do but she knew she had no choice. She glowered at Deven while lowering herself back to the chair.

“Now, let’s start from the beginning.” McKinney nodded to Deven for her to speak. The thing was, now that Deven had permission, she really wasn’t sure what to say. With everything she and Paul had discovered, all fingers pointed to exactly what Yolanda Wright was alleging. That Kennedy was a stone-cold identity thief. How the hell could she admit that?

“I was mistaken,” she said, looking directly at the cop to keep from meeting Paul’s questioning frown. “About the Amber Wright thing. I thought the person may have had something to do with Kennedy, but I was wrong. I guess I was so desperate for answers, I was grasping at stuff to try and make sense of it.”