Jessica looked through the peephole to confirm the person on the other side was who she was expecting. It was. She needed a couple of attempts before she was able to unhook the security chain.

She opened the door and smiled.

34 PRYCE

34

PRYCE

Nate Daniels was in the same interview room as Frank Sherman had been three days earlier. No windows. No AC. Just the persistent drumming of hard rain on a flat roof above his head.

He looked exactly like his DMV photo. Blond buzz cut, tan face, cold gray eyes. He wore a too-tight black T-shirt that clung to hard muscles. Not barrel chested, exactly, but definitely athletic. He leaned back in the chair so that it was balancing on the rear two legs and crossed his gym-honed arms across his chest. Nate Daniels looked remarkably relaxed for a man who had just been arrested in connection with a homicide.

Next to Daniels sat his lawyer. As far as looks went, the two men couldn’t have been any more different. Mel Munro was small, rake thin, and mustachioed, and he wore the furtive expression of a weasel. His cheap navy pinstripe suit hung off his narrow shoulders like it would have hung off the hanger in the store. A battered briefcase was open on the table in front of him. He looked like a weasel, but he had the reputation of a rat.

Munro said, “Can we get this over and done with as quickly as possible, please, Detectives? I’d like to get back to enjoying my Sunday evening with Mrs. Munro. We are both devout churchgoers, and she is not comfortable with me working on the Sabbath.”

“Happy to spend the overtime cash, though,” Medina muttered.

Pryce informed Daniels and his lawyer that the interview was being recorded by the small camera mounted on the ceiling. He withdrew several printouts of CCTV screenshots from a file and showed Munro and Daniels the first printout, taken from the security footage from the Urban Heights complex, a dark-clad figure emerging from a motel room.

Pryce said, “The Dreamz Motel. Where Amy Ong was murdered a little over a week ago. Saturday night.”

Munro laughed. “Is that what this is all about? The college student? From what I hear, you’ve already had one innocent man locked up for her murder. You’re about to make it two. Are you losing your touch, Detective Pryce? Is the pressure getting to you? My client is innocent.”

Daniels said, “Never heard of the bitch.”

Munro shot him a look.

Pryce said, “Allow me to refresh your memory, Mr. Daniels.” He took a photo of Amy Ong from the file, the one from the missing person posters, and placed it in front of Daniels.

The younger man grinned. “She was a looker, all right. I’m sure I’d remember if our paths had crossed.”

Pryce felt like punching him.