The officer gave her a nod and stepped aside, gesturing at the tray holding her keys, phone, glasses, expensive-looking pen, and roughly two dollars in change. He was paper-white and looked like he was about to show her what he’d eaten for lunch as he stared at the soon-to-be remains of his charge. She glanced at the sheet he was currently signing and saw he was on one that would require the signature of a notary. “Good timing. “Thank you, officer,” Amber said without looking at the man. Estes?” Amber said. They both gave her tight-lipped smiles and nods. “You’re not asking for much.”
“It’s the payment Brantwood requires for their… generous offer,” Amber said. “Of course, officer,” Amber repeated as she hefted her leather business bag off the table and followed the man as he led her through the double doors and to a set of elevators. “I trust that’s taken care of?”
The officer was too busy staring at the mess lying mere feet away from him with a pool of blood slowly inching its way toward him to answer her. Almost fifteen minutes had passed before the door she’d walked through opened, and in walked a man who appeared to be in his early to mid-fifties. Estes?” Amber said. “Please,” the lawyer said, gesturing to one of the other chairs at
