“Have a seat. Amber stared at him for a long moment and decided that she had reached the limits of his ability to trust. “Officer Estes should be here in a few minutes with Mr. The guard stopped in front of a door and opened it. They do a retinal and fingerprint scan.”
“Unfortunate but not impossible,” Amber said, picking up her phone. Once she’d slipped on the clean top, she did the same with the pants, sliding khakis stained with droplets of blood over generous hips and a shapely ass, discarding them in favor of the freshly laundered pants. He’s out cold.”
“And the recordings?”
“There won’t be any footage of you,” he said. “You’re not asking for much.”
“It’s the payment Brantwood requires for their… generous offer,” Amber said. She pulled out her pen and notepad, set it on the table, folded her hands on the paper, and simply waited as she stared around the room. Before the officer could reply, the doors slid open, and the pair left the elevator, took a right, and headed down a corridor well-lit in a warm, incandescent glow.
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