“Did you see anything in her hands, pocket, bag?”

Harry exhaled. “I’m not sure. It happened so fast.”

“Understandably, you were terrified of being injured after your previous experience.” Detective Ellis’ gaze fell on Mel’s wheelchair. “However, Mr. Owen, you were in possession of a prohibited weapon—”

“I was shot and paralyzed by a prohibited weapon!” Mel flung his arm toward his legs. “And I’ve lived a life sentence in this wheelchair!”

The detective’s voice was calm. “I’m not judging you, Mr. Owen. But we have to look at the facts. And the law. I am advising you to expect charges to be laid.”

Mel’s face turned red. Harry shot him an alarmed look. His heart cried out at the injustice of what the detective said, but his lawyer’s mind acknowledged that his father had been caught breaking the law.

“But I’m the victim!” Mel shouted. “Why should I be punished for defending my wife and my property?” He pounded his fist. “Goddamn our criminal justice system. It protects the guilty!”

The irony of the situation did not escape Harry. He was on the Committee of Public Safety. “It’s a balance, Dad,” he said, his voice trailing. Pathetic. The whole situation was pathetic. He turned to Ellis. He knew that the police were bound to lay charges given his father had been caught with an unregistered and prohibited gun, but he had to say something. “Detective, my father was the victim. Again. All he was trying to do was protect himself and my mother.”

Mel threw Harry a fierce look. “I am tired of being the victim. I am tired of having my life ruined over and over again, and these goddamned criminals getting off the hook!”

Dad. No. His father was getting out of control. He would throw them both under the bus if he didn’t stop him now.

Harry jumped to his feet and stood behind his father. A fresh round of sweat streamed from the back of his neck. What would the police do with his father’s admissions? “Detective, we are exercising our right to remain silent.” He placed his hands on his father’s shoulders and gave them a warning squeeze. No more, Dad.

But he feared that too much had been said already.

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

12:51 p.m.

The pale layer of dust streaking the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Granville Street building gave the otherwise gracious architecture a shambling air. Rather like its occupant, Kate thought. She pulled open the glass door, noting the set of security locks, and the heavy wooden trim finished in glossy black paint. A bell chimed to announce her arrival.