There was something about her, something too smooth and slick to be trusted. She'd walked into Will's office in her perfectly tailored suit and sky high heels without a hair out of place. Her smile had never faltered as she read Will the riot act over Vera's arrest, demanding her immediate release if he didn't intend on filing charges. When he'd agreed, said that Vera was free to go, Lina had insisted on an apology first. It had been strangely satisfying to watch the police chief stumble through that apology; he'd never sounded sorry, though. In fact, Vera was pretty sure that the apology had been too far to go. Will had been pissed before; now he was livid and it was even more personal. This was going to get messy and fast. Vera knew it deep down in her stomach, where a sick pit of dread had been brewing. At first the feeling had been Deacon's inside of her, but now Vera owned it as much as he did. She was ninety-eight percent sure that she was going to be sick because of it. Susan was pacing the length of the apartment as if it were an Olympic event or her life depended on it.
