“Good evening, Mr. Harrington.”

Alex stared at the cop he’d met yesterday, near Kent’s cubicle in the ICU, bundled to his ears against the frigid weather. “It’s Detective Hoolihan, isn’t it? You came to tell me you’ve found out who shot my friend?”

Hoolihan said, “We’d like to speak with both you and Ms. Barrett.”

“But we’ve told you everything we know, Detective, yesterday. Have you at least learned anything new?”

Hoolihan said nothing, nodded behind him. “I believe you know Ms. Briscoe, and these are FBI agents Sherlock and Maitland.”

Sherlock gave Alex her sunny smile, held out her creds. Tommy did the same. Harrington waved them away.

Pamela appeared behind him. “Alex? What’s going on? Who are these people? Oh, good evening, Detective, I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”

Alex said, “Pam, it’s Detective Hoolihan. We spoke to him yesterday, about Kent.”

“Yes, of course, Detective Hoolihan. Forgive me, I’m so worried about Kent, and of course, Mr. Harrington had to end his mayoral race—” She abruptly stopped, shook her head, but then she spotted Mia, and her eyes fired. “You! Why are you here? Don’t think we don’t know who was behind those ridiculous sex questions at Alex’s press conference yesterday. I’m going to see to it you’re fired. I already called your boss.” She paused, frowned. “You’re a disgrace.”

Mia knew what Milo had said to Pamela, and he hadn’t been all that pleasant. She said, “Actually, Pammie, you have no idea what I am, but I promise you, you’re going to find out.”

“How dare you call me that! And just what does that mean, you unethical—”

Detective Hoolihan smoothly interrupted. “Actually we’re here to speak to you about the murder of a student, Serena Winters, seven years ago at Godwyn University.”

Pamela snapped out, “Who? What are you talking about? What does a murdered student have to do with Alex? Where in the world is Godwyn University?”

Even though Pamela had tried to hide it, Mia heard alarm in her voice. So Alex told you something about it, did he, Pam? A nice believable lie? Bet he didn’t tell you about Juliet. Mia didn’t look at her; she kept her eyes on Alex, almost applauded him when he smoothly morphed a brief flash of shock into bewilderment.

Mia smiled at him, watched him start, then frown at her. The tsunami’s here at your front door, Alex, no escape for you. And you’re wondering how to play it. She’d bet he was weighing whether to cry lawyer. She prayed he was too arrogant to let any lesser human being speak for him, at least not yet. Yes, Alex, deal with this yourself. You don’t need a lawyer. You’re so much smarter than they are, aren’t you?