Marcus took a heavy red cardboard folder out of his desk drawer and started sliding our printouts inside.

“We’re not negotiating with her,” Marcus said.

“We’re putting every single document on the magistrate’s table at nine in the morning.”

“Should I contact Detective Henderson now?” I asked.

“Call him from the parking lot,” Marcus said.

“Give him the whole file we just put together.”

The heat outside hit my face like steam from an open radiator when we stepped out of the lobby.

I climbed into the cab of my work truck, started the engine, and put Detective Henderson on speaker while Mariana held her tablet on her knees.