Bailed Out (The Anna Albertini Files #2) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,4

in. “You’re a prosecuting attorney, Albertini. You can’t be her lawyer. Even if you quit your job, you’re a witness, and you can’t be her lawyer.”

Crap. He was right. My shoulders slumped. “She’s my sister,” I whispered.

Pierce’s eyes softened for the briefest of seconds. “All right. I’ll have a uniform escort you to your car, and you drive directly to the station for an interview. I’ll be at least an hour here, but I want you in my office when I arrive. You can make arrangements for your sister on the way.”

It was the best I was going to get. “Thanks.” Without looking at the shiny gun or the battered body, I turned and walked out of the apartment with an officer at my side. She was in her thirties with a cute blonde bob, and she probably would’ve been pretty had she been smiling. I didn’t blame her. There was nothing to smile about.

After she’d seen me to my car, she disappeared back inside the building. A crowd was gathering on the sidewalk, and I pulled away from the curb before anybody could stop me.

Then I quickly dialed a phone number.

“What, Anna? Didn’t you get enough of me today?”

“Clark? I need your help.” I sped up to make it through a yellow light. “My sister was just arrested, and she needs a lawyer. She might qualify for a public defender, but if not, you can contract with private clients, right?”

“Yeah.” His voice went from cajoling to serious. “Where is she?”

Tears threatened my voice, and I shoved them away. This was just too much. “On the way to the police station. I told Tessa not to talk, but she looked scared. Please hurry.”

I twirled the Styrofoam cup around on Pierce’s cluttered desk. As a detective in the Elk County Sheriff’s Office, he had his own office with a battered desk, two rather nice guest chairs, a plush looking leather chair for him, and a nice window that faced the city park with the beach and Lilac Lake behind him. My office was situated kitty-corner to this building around the park. I’d sat in his comfy guest chair for almost two hours before he arrived, and I’d memorized the pictures of him fishing with what looked like a brother, one with him and a smiling blond woman with the same light green eyes he had, and one of him in his dress uniform. Other than that, case files took up all available space in the small room.

I heard him enter the room before I saw him, and he shut the door, crossing around his desk to sit. His scent of salt and the ocean, even though we were nowhere near an ocean, filtered around. “Did you get food?” As usual, he didn’t start with niceties.

“One of the uniforms brought me a granola bar,” I said, my head hurting and my mind weary. My phone buzzed for what seemed like the millionth time, and I switched it to silent.

His dark blond eyebrows rose. “I’m sure you called the entire family.”

I sighed. “By the time I sat here, they already knew.” My immediate family consisted of the combination of two large families from Silverville; the Albertini and O’Shea families. Silverville was settled by Irish and Italian miners, and as most small towns go, there are few secrets. Even from fifty minutes away in the big town of Timber City, word about Tess’s arrest would’ve traveled faster than an August wildfire. “I’m surprised you didn’t see anybody when you came in.”

“I came in the back door,” he admitted, the leather seat groaning as he leaned back. His hair was ruffled, and his eyes battle weary, but he filled out the long-sleeved black shirt like it had been made for him. With the gun and badge at his belt, he all but screamed cop. “Tell me everything.”

I looked in the empty coffee cup. The coffee had sucked, but at least it had been something. “I was taking dinner to my sister, you yelled at me, and I fell into her living room. You saw what I saw.” My stomach hurt like I’d been punched. “Is Tessa okay?”

“When had you last talked to your sister?” Pierce asked, the slight gray at his temples giving him an air of command.

“Last night,” I said, picking at the Styrofoam. His tone was conversational, but there was no doubt he was interviewing me. Definitely fishing for information, and I had to be careful. This was my sister. “I called her