No one was in a rush to answer, so I pressed it again and kept the button depressed. I could hear the annoying buzzer sounding in the room next door. Finally a door opened and a fresh-faced young woman, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, walked into the front office. She smiled: a fixed response.

“Hello,” she said. There was no hint of recognition in her face. She was carrying a ring binder and bent down to place it on a shelf under the counter separating us. When she stood up again, I read her name badge. Caroline Lehrer, a civilian support worker. “How may I help you, sir?”

“I think a friend of mine might have been brought here.”

I saw her eyes widen slightly, but it wasn’t in alarm. Sometimes I got the same reaction when people heard my accent. Usually they ask if I’m from England. But Caroline Lehrer was more professional than that and allowed her curiosity to slide. “If your friend was arrested they’d be over at our State Street offices.”

“Witness,” I corrected. “She’s the victim of the kidnapping earlier today.”

Caroline’s shoulders tightened at my words and she studied me more intently. She was weighing and balancing my description against that of the suspect. Color crept into her throat. She gave me a look that said she expected me to throw myself against the Perspex shield that separated us. Her hand crept surreptitiously toward an emergency button under the shelf.

“I only want to speak to Imogen Ballard. I understand that that may not be possible under the circumstances, but if you get me the sheriff, maybe something can be arranged.”

Caroline lifted a finger—at least it wasn’t heading for the panic alarm anymore. Not that she didn’t intend rounding up the troops. “The sheriff is unavailable. If you just give me a moment, sir, I’ll find someone that you can speak to.”

“That’s all I want.”

Caroline backed out through the door and fastened it securely behind her. I heard a dull electronic thud and guessed that from somewhere inside a switch had been thrown and the exit door was now also secure. No way could I escape while she rounded up some burly officers to come and take me down. There was a row of chairs bolted to the floor. I sat in one of them and kept my hands open, palms up on my thighs, while I listened to the low buzz of activity beyond the door. There was a CCTV camera aiming directly at me and I could picture a group of deputies staring at the corresponding screen trying to decide exactly who I was. And how dangerous I might be.

A few minutes later the door opened, and I was surprised at the number of people coming to get me. There was only Caroline Lehrer. She had the fixed smile on her face again.