36 NoraNora locked eyes with Deputy Howard Upton and repeated the damning line.
“‘Like you want me to,’ Sam said.” She paused.
“Do you recall your response?”
“I don’t remember,” Deputy Upton muttered.
“You said Sam would be helping himself if he supplied more details from his dreams. You offered to work with him. Would you care to comment?”
Deputy Upton spat out a terse “No.”
He must have claimed ten times that he couldn’t remember. She’d made her point.
She reached for the loose sheets of printer paper she’d buried under the transcripts. Selected excerpts from Dr. Upton’s doctoral dissertation.
She’d paid the library forty bucks to download the PDF. What she’d found in it was worth every penny.
“Dr. Upton,” she began, “you were a doctoral candidate when you interviewed my clients
