then dont just wanted you to know that weve got the

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Unformatted text preview: you for questioning. Our offices are on the lower level. Let's go" She was led away hurriedly, clutching her purse, her eyes still covered. THE LONG TABLE was piled with papers and files, with crumpled sheets from legal pads and napkins and empty cups and even half-eaten sandwiches from the hospital cafeteria. Lunch had been five hours earlier but neither lawyer had thought of dinner. Time was being kept outside the room. Inside, it didn't matter. Both men were barefoot. Patrick wore a tee shirt and gym shorts. Sandy wore a very wrinkled cotton button-down, khakis, no socks, the same attire he'd put on hours earlier in the beach house. The Aricia box was empty in a corner, its contents all on the table. The door opened while it was being knocked on, and Agent Joshua Cutter entered before he was asked. He stayed by the door. "This is a private meeting," Sandy said, very near Cutter's face. The documents on the table could not be seen by anyone. Patrick walked to the door and helped shield the view. "Why don't you knock before you enter?" he said angrily. "Sorry," Cutter said calmly. "I'll just be a minute. Just thought you'd want to know that we have Eva Miranda in custody. Caught her sneaking through the Miami airport, on her way home to Brazil, fake passport and all." Patrick froze and tried to think of something to say. "Eva?" Sandy asked. "Yeah, also known as Leah Pires. That's what her fake passport calls her." Cutter was looking at Patrick while answering Sandy. "Where is she?" Patrick asked, stunned. "Jail, in Miami." Patrick turned and walked along the table. Jail would be horrible anywhere, but jail in Miami had a particularly ominous ring to it. "Do you have a number where we can call her?" Sandy asked. "No." "She has the right to a telephone." "We're working on it." "Get me a number, okay." "We'll see." Cutter continued to watch Patrick and ignore Sandy. "She...
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