Chapter 6
“She says she’ll only talk to you,” MacDonald said. He stood about four inches shorter than Walker’s five foot eleven, but he was young and pumped, always wearing short sleeves—maybe to show off those bulging biceps he had to be proud of.
Walker had just left the interview room where Cindy Schmidt was being held. He glanced back through the one-way glass to where another detective, Kruso—a short redhead, married, with a brood of kids—continued to talk to the distraught woman.
“Great, where is she?” he asked sarcastically.
“I moved her to interview one. She demanded a tea, herbal with no caffeine, and she’s hungry. Asked if we had a salad or something light she could eat since the car that drove through the restaurant arrived before she’d actually had dinner.”
He laughed. “Se
