There was a click, click and then he and the badge walked down a hall to another bank of iron bars that had to be released by someone on the far side. After that they hung another right and a left and stopped in front of a door that was something out of a high school, the thing painted blech beige, its window marked with chicken wire embedded in the glass.

Inside the interrogation room, Mick Rhodes was leaning back against the far wall, his wingtips crossed, his double-breasted suit the kind that Mr. Personality would also have approved of.

Mick stayed quiet as the guard released the cuffs and ducked out of the room. After the door shut, the lawyer shook his head. “Never expected this one.”

“That makes two of us.”

“What the hell happened, Vin?” Mick then nodded up at a security camera, indicating that attorney-client privilege was probably more of a theory than an actuality here in the station house.

Vin sat down at the little table, taking one of the two chairs. “No fucking clue. I came home around midnight and the cops were in my place—which had been trashed. They told me Devina was in the hospital and she said I was the one who’d put her there. My alibi is airtight, though. I was at my office for the whole afternoon and into the evening. I can get them videos of me sitting at my desk for hours.”

“I’ve seen the police report. She said she was attacked at ten o’clock.”

Shit. He’d assumed it had happened earlier.

“Right, we’re going to talk about all that where-were-you stuff a little later,” Mick murmured, as if he knew the answer to that one was complicated. “I’ve pulled some strings. Your bail’s going to be set within the hour. It’ll be a hundred thousand or so.”

“If they give me my wallet, I can do that right now.”

“Good. I’ll take you home—”

“Only to get clothes.” He never wanted to see the duplex again, much less stay there. “I’m going to a hotel.”

“Don’t blame you. And if you find you need some privacy from the media, you can stay with me in Greenwich.”

“I just need to talk to Devina.” He needed to find out not only who had busted her up, but who the hell she’d been sleeping with. He had a lot of friends…a man like him with money like his? He had friends all over the fucking place.

“Let’s get you out of here first, okay? And then we’ll talk about next steps.”

“I didn’t do it, Mick.”

“Do you think I would be dressed up like this on Sunday morning if I thought otherwise? For God’s sake, man, I could be cozied up with the Times right now.”

“At least that’s a priority I can respect.”