Michael didn’t have to call the detective. At eight Sunday morning his cell phone rang.
Blearily he took it off the charger, checked the caller ID, and sighed. “Good morning, Detective.”
“Good morning, Mr. Wright. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“You did, but that’s all right. How can I help you?”
“I’d appreciated it you’d come down to the precinct.”
Michael knew ‘appreciate’ meant ‘you’d better’. His gut clenched as he asked, “When?”
“This morning. Say at nine-thirty. That should give you time to dress and grab something to eat.”
“I’ll be there,” Michael replied before hanging up. He had the feeling if he’d asked why, the detective would have said he’d tell him when he got there.
Deciding to put up a good front, he dressed in slacks and one of his better shirts, rather than his usual d
