Hunting Sweetie Rose : A Mystery (9781429950879) - Plot & Excerpts
I don’t remember the ride. I don’t remember whether it was a marked or an unmarked car, or who drove, or whether there was much traffic. I’d never seen the police station. I did recognize the table. It seemed like every station house I’d been in had the same kind of beat-up, plastic-topped relic, surrounded by metal-framed hard plastic chairs that were tough on the ass. I knew the questions Plinnit was going to ask, like he knew the answers he was going to get. We’d done it before, in Sweetie Fairbairn’s kitchen. Twice. Even so, we were going to slog through them again, and again, until one of us wore down too much to go on. The gray-haired, gray-eyed man stood at the door. Plinnit and I sat at the table. He switched on a tape recorder and blew through a Miranda. When I said I didn’t need a lawyer, he started with the questions. “Ms. Fairbairn was alive and well when you saw her?” “She was in shock,” I said again. “You know shock?” he asked again. “Nothing on her face wanted to move.
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