Page 68 of Manner of Death

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Page 68 of Manner of Death

“Especially not when it could reflect badly on your supervisor,” Nan chimed in. “You wouldn’t want Dr. Ramin to get in trouble on your behalf, would you?”

Sawyer stiffened. Wait, what?

“Of course I don’t want to get Bashir in trouble!” Tami protested. “This has nothing to do with him!”

“So who does it have to do with?” Nan asked. “You want us to leave your boss alone? Then you better give us another name—someone else to focus on—or Dr. Ramin could be brought up on charges just as easily as you.”

That was…no, that absolutely wasn’t true. Sawyer turned and looked at Nan, who was still staring at Tami, unflinching.

“Think of the damage you could do by not speaking,” Nan said. “The damage to his career. You think he’s ever going to forgive you for that?”

“Nan.” That was Sawyer’s knock-it-off tone of voice. He hoped she listened to him.

Tami’s hand shook as she pressed it against her mouth. She didn’t speak, but tears spilled from her eyes and down her cheeks, then onto the table. “Can I have some water?” she asked in a tiny voice. “I really need some water.”

“You get water when we get answers, you—”

“Sure,” Sawyer said. He felt the heat of Nan’s glare against the side of his face but stood up without acknowledging it. “We’ll bring you some water in just a minute, okay?” He left the room and Nan followed, slamming it shut behind them.

“What the fuck was that?” she demanded as soon as they had some space. “That woman knows way more than she’s letting on—she’s on the verge of giving her contact up! You don’t stop a successful interrogation for a water break!”

“First, it’s an interview, not an interrogation,” Sawyer said. “And either way, we don’t have any reason not to give her water. She needed a chance to regain a little equilibrium. Not to mention, you—”

“No,” Nan insisted. “You don’t give murder suspects—people who are suspected of murdering your damn partner—a chance to regain their goddamn equilibrium! You push them until they break, then you mop up the pieces well enough to keep the DA from breathing down your neck about police brutality. You think we’re going to get the chance to apply that kind of pressure once her lawyer shows up?” Nan narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Is this about what I said about Dr. Ramin?”

Sawyer was thrown. “Excuse me?”

“Are you going easy on her because she works for him? I swear to God, Sawyer, if you’re throwing this just because you’re sleeping with her boss—”

“This has nothing to do with Bashir,” he said firmly. “A break gives her a chance to contemplate her options, that’s all. She knows we have her on camera in Kurt’s car, she knows we can charge her with unauthorized disclosure of classified information—”

“A decent lawyer can argue circumstantial evidence with the first one, and the second carries a max of five years. And no judge I’ve ever heard of has bothered with sentencing someone for that long without priors.” Nan pointed a finger at him. “You’re fucking this up, and if she ends up getting away because of your soft hand and hard dick, we’re going to have problems.”

Right, because you’re doing such a brilliant job.

The hell of it was, though, Nan was kind of correct. She was within her rights to push Tami in her soft parts, and Bashir was clearly a soft spot for her. Still… “Let me handle it now,” he said. “Text me when her lawyer shows up.” He filled a small plastic cup at the water cooler, then headed back into the room before Nan could do more than throw up her hands.

Tami was wiping her eyes clear as he came in. “Thanks,” she said when she saw the water. “Do you have a tissue? My mascara has to be a wreck.”

Wrong foot, wrong foot.

Sawyer needed to regain some ground. “No tissue, sorry. We need to—”

“Please? It’s running into my eyes, I can barely keep them open.”

“Use your shirt,” he advised.

Tami scowled at him. “I thought you were nice! Why won’t you do one little thing for me?”

Because you’re trying to delay me, and it’s working.

“I can’t do anything else for you until you do something for me, Ms. Glen.”

“What, like confess?” She snorted. “No way. I didn’t kill anyone, and I’m not talking about the car thing. For all I know, you used a computer to fake that. Cops will do anything to get a confession, but you can’t prove it’s me or you would have already charged me.”

Shit, Nan had been right. They should have pressed harder when she was low. “We don’t have to charge you to maintain you as a person of interest in the case.”

“Do that, then.” She stood up. “If you’re done, I’m leaving.” She mustered a little smirk from somewhere. “Bashir won’t be happy with you when he hears about what you’ve done today.”




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