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“And what about Ambyr?” North asked. “That business about her hanging herself.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s a question.”
“Are you asking me if I let somebody do that to her?”
“I’m asking you if there’s anything else to say. From what I understood, hanging yourself isn’t exactly uncommon in jail, but it doesn’t have a high success rate.”
Weiss snorted. “You saw the dorms. We’ve got a CO staring down their shorts every minute of the day. Sometimes, somebody tries in the bathroom, but there’s nothing high enough—their feet can touch the floor no matter what they use.” Rubbing her cheek, Weiss frowned. “You heard Lang: they found her in the laundry. The question is how she got in there after lockdown. Nobody went into the women’s unit. Nobody. If you think I’m lying, you’d better say it to my face.”
“I didn’t say you were lying.” But North was slouched in his chair, and he was wearing the look of his that made a lot of people want to punch him. “You’re getting awfully worked up about a question.”
“I’m getting worked up because it’s my job and I’m damn good at it. And I don’t need some yahoo off the street walking in here asking me if I let a girl get killed on my watch.”
“I apologize.”
Weiss let out a huff.
“You know people are going to ask,” North said.
“I know. But screw them and screw you.”
“Welch took the sheriff’s personal vehicle?”
It took Weiss a moment to recalibrate for the new line of questioning. “That’s what it looks like.”
“What kind of car was it? Do you have the license plate?”
“They already sent all that to the Highway Patrol.”
“Yeah, well, we’re not on their Christmas card list. Mind giving it to us too?”
Weiss gave him a look that mixed annoyance and a kind of wry surrender. Then she took one of the folders and jotted down2015 Subaru Outback, redand a license plate number.
“You’re wasted in here,” North said. “They should make you sheriff next.”
Weiss’s smile lolled as she rocked back in her chair. “That’d be the day.”
5
“Does everything in this town close at nine o’clock?” North asked as they drove past another darkened strip mall. “Where the fuck am I? Mayberry?”
“Pull over,” Shaw said. “We’ll use my hotspot.”
“We get charged for the hotspot. There’s got to be somewhere with Wi-Fi.”
“North, it’s five dollars. Or ten dollars. Or a hundred dollars.”
“We should have free Wi-Fi everywhere. It’s twenty-fucking-twenty.”
“I’ll pay for it. I’ll use my own money. It won’t even be a Borealis expense.”
“A coffeeshop. A grocery store. For fuck’s sake, have they ever heard of McDonald’s?”
“You can charge it,” Shaw said as genius struck. “You can expense it to the Wahredua PD.”
North gave him a sidelong look and then made a hard right into the next parking lot.
