“Oh, hell.” Michael looked at the TV trucks parked on the street in front of the shop and cringed. “Keep going and drop me at the alley.”
“That won’t solve the problem,” Reid replied.
“Sure it will. They can’t come inside to interrogate me without my permission.”
“Unfortunately, they can. It’s a business, not a private residence.”
Michael’s shoulders slumped. “Okay. Let me out here. I’ll tell them I’m under a gag order from the police. They can like it or not.”
Reid chuckled as he pulled to the curb. “They won’t, but there’s not much they can do about it. Give me a kiss and I’ll see you tonight.”
Michael did, got out of the car, and, squaring his shoulders, he crossed the street.
“Mr. Wright,” a reporter called out, shoving a microphone at Michael. “Do you think you’ll be able to gi
