Dillon didn’t even realize he was drumming his fingers against the scarred surface of the metal table in the dimly lit interrogation room until Megan reached across, put her hand over his, and said, “Will you knock it off already?”
“Sorry.” He put his hands in his lap. “It’s not everyday I get arrested. Guess I’m not up on prison protocol.”
“He didn’t arrest you, Dillon. Not yet, anyway.” She looked down at her watch. “I’m thinking he’s probably not going to, either. We’ve been sitting in here by ourselves for almost an hour. I think if he were gonna charge you with something, he’d have done it by now.”
Dillon snorted. “Yeah, right. And I’m thinking he’s been in there, all this time, getting Lewis’s side of the story. Your brother’s probably trying to figure out the best way to put us a
