Page 171 of Pieces of Her (Andrea Oliver 1)

“That part was true.”

“And that thing about your dad?”

“Also true,” he said. “You wanna explain how you ended up at Paula Kunde’s house? She’s at the top of your mom’s no-fly list.”

Laura felt Andy stiffen beside her. Her own nerves were rattled every time she thought about Andy eavesdropping on her conversation with Hoodie. Laura would never forgive herself for inadvertently sending her daughter into the lions’ den.

Still, Andy held her own, just shrugging at Mike’s question.

He tried, “What about those bricks of cash in your back pockets? Put quite a damper on the mood.”

Andy smiled, shrugging again.

Laura waited, but there was nothing more except the weight of sexual tension.

Mike asked Laura, “Nervous?”

“Why would I be?”

He shrugged. “Just an average day where you meet a guy you sent to prison for the rest of his life.”

“He sent himself to prison. You people are the jackasses who keep letting him go in front of the parole board.”

“It takes a village.” Mike pointed to the pink scar on his temple where he’d been hit in the head. “You ever figure out who knocked me out in your front yard?”

“How do you know it wasn’t me?”

Laura smiled because he smiled.

He gave a slight bow of surrender, indicating the prison. “After you, ladies.”

They walked ahead of Mike toward the visitors’ entrance. Laura looked up at the tall building with bars over reinforced glass in the windows. Nick was inside. He was waiting for her. Laura felt a sudden shakiness after days of certainty. Could she do this?

Did she have a choice?

Her shoulders tensed as they were buzzed through the front doors. The guard who met them was massive, taller than Mike, his belly jutting past his black leather belt. His shoes squeaked as he led them through security. They stored their purses and phones in metal lockers, then he led them down a long corridor.

Laura fought a shudder. The walls felt like they were closing in. Every time a door or gate slammed shut, her stomach clenched. She had only been confined for two years, but the thought of being trapped alone in a cell again brought on a cold sweat.

Or was she thinking about Nick?

Andy slipped her hand into Laura’s as they reached the end of the corridor. They followed the guard into a small, airless room. Monitors showed feeds from all of the cameras. Six guards sat with headphones on, eavesdropping on inmate conversations inside the visitors’ room.

“Marshal?” There was a man standing with his back to the wall. Unlike the others, he was wearing a suit and tie. He shook Mike’s hand. “Marshal Rosenfeld.”

“Marshal Falcone,” Mike said. “This is my witness. Her daughter.”

Rosenfeld nodded to each of them as he pulled a small plastic case out of his pocket. “These go in your ears. They’ll transmit back to the station over there where we will record everything that’s said between you and the inmate.”

Laura frowned at the plastic earbuds in the case. “They look like hearing aids.”

“That’s by design.” Rosenfeld took the listening devices and placed them in her open hand. “Your words will be picked up through the vibrations in your jawbone. In order for us to pick up Clayton Morrow, he needs to be close. There’s a lot of ambient noise in the visitation room. All the inmates know how to work the dead zones. If you want to get him on tape, you need to be no more than three feet away.”

“That won’t be a problem.” Laura was more concerned with vanity. She did not want Nick to think she was an old woman who needed hearing aids.

Rosenfeld said, “If you feel threatened, or like you can’t do it, just say the phrase, ‘I would like a Coke.’ There’s a machine in there. He won’t notice anything’s off. We’ll tell the closest guard to step in, but if Morrow somehow has a shiv or a weapon—”

“I’m not worried about that. He would only use his hands.”