The door didn't close all the way. Voices drifted in from the corridor.
"Sir, this case is blowing up—media caught wind somehow, and now it's all over the internet."
"What's the witness, that Nelson Whitney, saying?"
"He brought a few classmates outside for interviews. Talking about rooting out criminal syndicates."
The corner of my mouth twitched. Nelson's addiction to playing the hero was getting worse by the day.
Ten minutes later, Detective Mercer walked back in.
He set a detention notice on the table in front of me.
"Laurel Fox—on suspicion of organizing and leading a criminal syndicate and of aggravated assault, you are hereby placed under criminal detention."
I picked up the pen and signed.
As I pressed my thumb to the ink pad, Detective Mercer dropped his voice.
"Kid, if you've got evidence, get it out now. Every eye in the city is on you."
I wiped the red ink off my finger.
"Thanks for the tip. Let the bullet fly a while longer."
I was taken to the detention center.
Seven or eight women in yellow vests sat inside the cell, every head turning toward me at once.
A heavyset woman near the wall corner stood up.
"Fresh meat? What're you in for?"
I ignored her.