Nineteen Thousand Dollars, a Forged Signature, and a Flight to the Dominican Republic
Outside the small barred window, the sky turned dark navy.
The streetlights flickered on in the precinct parking lot.
The heavy printer on the corner desk suddenly whirred to life.
It spat three crisp white pages into the plastic tray.
Rebecca got up and collected the documents.
She checked the electronic signature at the bottom of the last page.
She walked back to the metal table.
She handed the signed search warrant to Marcus.
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