red impressions. My left wrist swelled where Voss had twisted it against the booth.
The clerk behind the desk, a gray-haired woman whose nameplate read DORIS KEELER, quietly lifted a pen and began writing on a legal pad. Later I learned she wrote down the time the cuffs came off: 1:47 p.m. ConsultLawyers
“Thank you, Deputy,” I said to Miller. I said it without any anger, because I suspected this young man stood at the most important fork in the road of his life, and I hoped to
