He braced his hands on the side of the chair and leaned up slightly to speak. “I have anxiety attacks. It’s a medically diagnosed condition. I need to get to the hospital immediately. I will pass out without medical care.” “We’re not taking you anywhere,” Townie said. He rolled his eyes at the theatrics and pointed to an empty chair for Josie. The interrogation room was in the basement of one of the police department substations. She was certain more accommodating rooms were available, but the setting fit the occasion. The room was barely large enough to hold Big Ben, Townie, and two other officers that she’d not seen before sitting in chairs, and another officer who was running a video camera behind a tripod in one corner of the room. Josie liked that Big Ben had no table to hide behind. When he finally sat up in the chair, Josie looked in disgust at the tears that ran down his splotchy face. His cheap suit hung off his shoulders in a wrinkled mess as he dangled his hands between his legs and scanned the room, noticing Josie for the first time.
