The federal marshal smiled.
Five minutes later, Evelyn Reed stepped from the elevator.
She was seventy-four and five foot five.
Silver hair cut neatly around her face.
Dark red sweater.
Black trousers.
House slippers.
She carried a cane she disliked using and wielded more like a rhetorical device than a mobility aid.
Marcus immediately walked toward her.
“Mom.”
She looked at his wrists.
Stopped.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
She stared.
“Those are handcuff marks.”
Diane looked suddenly less comfortable than she had facing federal marshals.
Evelyn turned toward her.
Recognition appeared immediately.
“You.”
Diane’s face stiffened.
“Mrs. Reed.”
Marcus looked between them.
“You know each other?”
His mother laughed without humor.
“Oh, yes.”
Diane said:
“We met briefly.”
Evelyn turned toward Marcus.
“She came to my apartment three days ago.”
Marcus’s expression changed.
“Why?”
“To explain that the Whitmore has standards.”
Lena closed her eyes.
Diane immediately said:
“That is not what I said.”
Evelyn ignored her.
“She asked how I had purchased the unit.”
Marcus looked toward Diane.
“You asked my mother how she could afford her condo?”
Diane flushed.
“I asked whether all ownership documents were properly completed.”
Evelyn tapped her cane against the concrete.
“You asked whether my late husband left me enough money to maintain the monthly fees.”
Nobody spoke.
Diane said:
“I was explaining costs.”
Evelyn smiled.
A dangerous smile Marcus knew from childhood.
“You also asked if my son visited often.”
Diane looked toward Marcus.
Evelyn continued:
“And whether he had a criminal record.”
Hayes looked down.
Marcus felt something cold move through him.
“Mom.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I am seventy-four years old.”
“I can survive a rude blonde woman without notifying the federal judiciary.”
Torres coughed.
Possibly hiding a laugh.
Diane said:
“This is outrageous.”
Evelyn turned.
“No.”
“You calling the police on my son because you disabled his parking pass is outrageous.”
“I did no such thing.”
“We’ll see.”
Marcus looked at his mother.
Her voice was steady.
But her left hand shook slightly around the cane.
He noticed.
Nobody else did.
He moved closer.
“You okay?”
“I’m angry.”
“That is not a medical condition.”
“It should be.”
Marcus almost smiled.
Chen approached Evelyn.
“Mrs. Reed, would you be willing to give a statement?”
“Gladly.”
Diane said:
“I’m leaving.”
Chen turned.
“No.”
Diane stared.
“Am I detained?”
“Not currently.”
“Then I’m leaving.”
Chen considered.
“You are legally free to leave.”
Diane lifted her chin.
Marcus watched.
Chen continued:
“But your vehicle is part of a scene containing potential physical evidence beneath it, so you will not be driving it until that item is documented.”
Diane looked down at the Mercedes.
For the first time, she seemed to regret kicking the pass.
Marcus almost admired the poetry.
Almost.