The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Swept Under the Rug

with Mrs. Valentino’s disappearance?”
    Special Agent Feist dodged the question. “Mr. Valentino was attacked in his home last night. A physical examination of his person revealed someone had hit him over the head with a blunt object, rendering him unconscious before the fire started. It is our belief the attacker then set the house on fire, with the intention of murdering Mr. Valentino and having it appear to be an accident.”
    “My husband went in the house; he saved Valentino’s life. And I’m the person who called 911. Do you think we would have done those things if we wanted Valentino out of the picture?”
    Salazar studied my face. “It’s not unheard of for a first time offender to panic, have an attack of conscience and retrench at the eleventh hour.”
    Darryl stood and waved dismissively. “Gentlemen, you have nothing on my client but circumstantial evidence and the word of one man who deliberately withheld evidence early in the investigation. The record shows that Mrs. Phillips worked with Detective Capri, even before the kidnapping. You are wasting her time and your resources holding her here. In addition, you have tarnished her good name and I plan on advising my client to sue for defamation of character. Considering her business will potentially suffer, I’m sure we will have a strong case against both the Hudson police and the FBI.”
    I sat back, very impressed with the real son-of–a-bitch. Special Agent Feist opened his mouth but no sound emerged. Salazar lips made a thin white slash under his grim stare.
    “Now, if you’ll excuse me a gentlemen, this interview is over. I will need a moment to confer with my client before I take this before a judge.”
    Effectively dismissed, the FBI drones rose simultaneously and exited the interview room. I glanced at my lawyer, his pearly white grin shocking next to the ebony of his skin. “Thank-you, Mr. Brentwood. That turned out better than I had hoped.”
    “Don’t thank me until after you get my bill, Mrs. Phillips. And I meant what I said; you have a very strong case for defamation of character.”
    “Not interested. They really are just doing their jobs.”
    Daryl grunted. “As your council, I’ll advise you to stay away from Valentino and the remainder of the federal investigation. Coincidental or not, you don’t want your name to constantly pop up on the Fed’s radar. I’ll also advise you to abandon your ties with Detective Capri and the confidential informant position. Being a rat never pays.”
    On that ominous note, he lumbered out. I brooded while a uniform escorted me back to the holding area. The sounds and smell of the police station hovered around me, the moans of drunken citizens who had partied too much on Saturday night drying out in the cell next door, burnt coffee and nervous sweat lodged in my nostrils, ringing phones and the constant murmur of voices too far away to distinguish.
    Breathing through my mouth, I waited to be released. Brentwood had been right; Hudson was a small community and I might lose clients because of my arrest. I rubbed my hands over my eyes. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time
    “Margaret Phillips,” A young female officer, almost pixie-like in appearance, called and I stood back from the door as she unlatched it. Brentwood towered over her flashing me another of his quick, confident grins. “The charges have been dropped.” He reassured me.
    Brentwood, took my arm and guided me to what I assumed was the check-out desk. I saw Neil first, pacing like a caged panther and my father-in-law, Ralph Phillips scowling at his son’s back. I swallowed hard. This wasn’t going to be fun.
    “Maggie!” Neil was at my side, relief and fury battling for control of his expression. “Are you all right?”
    The short answer was no, but I nodded because I didn’t want to be responsible for another second of his distress. “I will be once I get home.”
    Ralph stood by Neil’s side, his face grim. “Say the word, sweetheart and we’ll own this whole damn building.”
    “I’m fine, Ralph really. It was just a mistake.” Although I knew his reaction stemmed from a thirst for blood more than genuine distress for my situation, I was sort of flattered.
    “Maggie, can I speak with you?” Capri had approached and I turned to scowl at her plum colored suit, sidearm strapped visibly under her unbuttoned jacket.
    Neil bristled like an irate hedgehog, but I placed a hand on his arm, signaling