ask me.â
I turned to leave, and Jumanji shuffled in his cage.
âGuilty,â he warbled. âGuilty, guilty, guilty.â
Great.
FOUR
I was up well before anyone else the next morning, made myself a quick cup of coffee, and arrived at St. Leoâs Central Station, an imposing building located in the downtown area, a few minutes past 7:30 a.m. As I entered the lobby, a tall, slender, sandy-haired man rose from the bank of chairs and started toward me. He was wearing a navy pin-striped suit that draped nicely on his tall frame, a white button-down shirt, and a navy and yellow striped tie, and was carrying an expensive leather briefcase. He extended his free hand. âNora Charles? Iâm Peter Dobbs.â He grinned, slow and easy. âThe description Daniel gave me was spot-on. Beautiful redhead, hourglass figure, snapping green eyes, walks with confidenceâit fits you to a tee.â
Heat seared my cheeks as I shook his hand. âWow, Iâm at a loss. Daniel didnât describe you at all, Mr. Dobbs.â
He held up one hand. âItâs Peter. Mr. Dobbs is what folks call my fatherâor my uncle.â
He had a manner about him one couldnât help but find appealing, and in spite of the situation I found myself grinning. âOkay, Peter. I donât want to waste any time. What can you tell me about my sister, and when can I see her?â
He put his hand on the small of my back and guided me over to the bank of chairs. Once we were seated, he set his briefcase on the floor between us and said, âAs soon as I got off the phone with Daniel I came straight here. She was still being processed, but they let me have a few minutes with her. She appeared to be doing well, under the circumstances. Naturally, she was a bit confused, and a mite indignant as well. I have a few friends on the force, so I used my influence to have them handle her with kid gloves. They kept her here overnight, pending arraignment. If sheâs denied bail, theyâll want to transfer her, but if we can get a quick court date, sheâll most likely be kept locally, at County Jail. And believe me, if sheâs got to stay in jail, far better here than the alternative. Here her cell mates would only be a few vagrants or drunks. Elsewhere . . . you get the idea.â
I winced at the thought of my free-spirited sister behind bars no matter where the locale. âWhat do you think her chances of bail are?â
âDepends on what they decide to charge her with. First-degree offenders rarely are granted bail, and in your sisterâs case, well, she was caught holding the murder weapon, standing over the body, plus she threatened him in front of witnesses. Second-degree or manslaughter would be a stretch.â He ran his hand through his hair, mussing the sides. âIn any event, Iâmgoing to argue she be granted bail. Iâm sure youâd prefer she not be incarcerated in prison during the trial. Unfortunately, sheâs appearing before Judge Blaskowitz, and heâs a stickler for the letter of the law.â He reached into his pocket for a packet of mints, held one out to me. I shook my head, and he popped one in his mouth. âBe warned, though, if Blaskowitz does grant it, itâll be high. Very high.â
I set my jaw. âThatâs okay. I have savings, and I have my shop. Iâm sure I can meet it.â
He nodded. âLacey is lucky to have a sister like you.â
âIâm sure sheâd disagree with that. We really donât get along all that well.â
He chuckled. âNo sibling gets along one hundred percent of the time with the others. I havenât spoken to my brother or my sister for months.â He shoved his hands in his pocket. âYouâre familiar with the details leading up to her arrest?â
I grimaced. âI know she was found with the body holding the murder weapon. And I know sheâs supposed to