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question. “It included doing whatever was legal to develop a case for his wife.”
    Bannon appeared ready to move on. “How long were you on his tail before the shooting?”
    “I picked him up in Coral Springs, then stayed with him until someone put my lights out. Thirty, forty-five minutes, tops.”
    “Where did he go?” Bannon asked.
    “He drove straight to the hotel. It seemed to be his destination from the time he got into his car.”
    “Did you hear a man’s voice or a woman’s making the threat?”
    I struggling with it, trying to re-create the scene. “We’ve been here before, and I still don’t know. It could have been a man or a woman. The venom in the words disguised the gender.”
    He looked a bit skeptical, but continued. “Tell me again: when you opened the door, what did you see?”

six
    I hesitated, knowing I should have seen something. What had I seen and what should I tell him? I closed my eyes and visualized the scene—or tried to. Nothing there—nothing except an empty hotel room. An empty room? Where was the person I’d heard? Where was Garcia? There had to be at least two of them. Maybe the blow to my head was blocking what I saw.
    “Ms. Bowman?” Bannon said.
    “Sorry. I saw an empty room. I was re-visualizing it, and all I get is an empty room.”
    Sargent leaned forward, a smirk glowing. “Sure. You hear a fight going on, but when you open the door, there’s no one there. Easy to believe—just like I believe in extraterrestrials. What’s your client’s name?”
    I hesitated. It was decision time—cooperate or stall. I decided on the former. “Garcia. His first name was Hector.”
    “You’re sticking to that?” Sargent said. “Hector Garcia. And I suppose his wife’s name was Garcia, too?”
    I thought about the question and the smirk on Sargent’s face. Why was he being such a hard-ass? I studied Sargent, then Bannon. Something was wrong. They should have positive identity by now, so they’d know the wife’s last name. What was the game? I had no choice but to play along until the rules became clear. “Yeah, her name was Garcia. She introduced herself as Garcia.”
    “I see,” Sargent said. “And this Ms. Garcia asked you to follow her husband and catch him with his honey? Is that right?”
    “Yes. We’ve been there already. She was fed up with his extra-marital affairs. According to her, this wasn’t his first. But it would be his last with her.”
    “I see,” Sargent said, leaning back. “ ‘Would be his last with her’ could mean she hired you to make sure it never happened again. Maybe she just hired you to eliminate a nuisance. Dick, I told you she was full of crap and wouldn’t give us the truth. You’re the nice guy. Explain it to her.”
    Bannon glared at Sargent, then, with a pained expression on his face, said, “Ms. Bowman, the facts don’t seem to agree with what you’ve told us. You see, the deceased’s name was Jacobs, and he was a bachelor—never been married. Maybe you need an attorney.”
    I stared at Bannon, my mind playing and replaying what he’d said. “Jacobs? Bachelor? That’s nuts. I met his wife. She described him, right down to his shoes. Just what are you handing out?” I stood. “I think both of you should leave now.”
    Bannon said, “Ms. Bowman—”
    “I want you out of here—now. In case you forgot, I’m still under a physician’s care. If you value your jobs, you’ll leave before I get my lawyer over here to remind you of my rights as a citizen.”
    “I’m sorry you feel that way,” Bannon said. “Let’s go, Major. Ms. Bowman deserves her privacy.”
    Sargent stood and gave me a nasty look. “We’ll be back. Bannon may be intimidated by your bullshit, but I’m not. As far as I’m concerned, we have enough to drag you screaming and kicking into the station right now. And I’d love to do just that.” He stopped and smiled—not a pretty thing. “But make sure you tell your lawyer we always honor