Murder By Misdirection

“She was a freakin’ redneck, Max!” Pro spat. “She hated my guts and made sure to let me know it.”

“Well, I’ve always loved you.”

“Unless you actually had to be a father.”

“Prophecy—”

“Just Pro,” she demanded. “Call me Pro.”

“Your name is Prophecy,” Max replied quietly.

“Another thing you hung around my neck before you took off and left me and Mom high and dry. You don’t know all the trouble I had in school because of that name.”

Max grew serious. “When you were a teenager, you made it pretty clear you didn’t want to be around me.”

“Damn straight. Joe was the man who really raised me, and that’s why I took his name instead of yours.”

“Well, I’m proud of you, if that means anything.”

“Not a damn thing, Max.” Pro rose and moved to the door and hit the intercom button. “I’m ready to leave.”

The door buzzed, and without a look back, she stepped out into the hall.

Max lifted his freed arms and rubbed the wrists.

“Damn,” Chu said out loud to himself from the window. “How the hell did he do that?”

Pro headed back to her desk only to hear her name called by a female voice. She turned to see the figure coming toward her. A woman about five foot nine, wearing a simple but fashionable dress that showed her slim figure nicely. Her salt-and-pepper hair was set off by her makeup that worked well with the tone of her dark skin.

“Mom?” Pro bleated in shock. “What are you doing here?”

Elisha Thompson approached her only daughter with a jacket under one arm and a purse in the other. “Your father called me.”

“I see,” Pro seethed and folded her arms. “You were his second phone call.”

“He told me you arrested him,” Elisha announced, and glanced around the busy bullpen.

Pro lowered her voice. “He was at a crime scene, and two officers found him with a possible murder weapon—a red rope—in his hands. We had to arrest him. He’s a suspect.”

“Oh, your father didn’t murder anyone,” her mother chided.

“Nice to see you, Mrs. Thompson,” Chu said, coming over. “I haven’t seen you since the Christmas party.”

“Oh, thank you, Tom. And please, call me Elisha.” She leaned her head back to stare down her nose at her daughter. “You’ve arrested Max?”

Chu could sense the tension between mother and daughter and moved closer to intercept. “We are holding him on suspicion of murder. It’s pretty serious.”

“Max refused to speak until his lawyer got here, Mom.”

“You fingerprinted him and took a mug shot?” Elisha said with a frown.

“We had to, Elisha. It’s protocol,” Chu explained. “We are waiting for his lawyer, and then we are required to question him.”

“If I could see him for a minute,” Elisha suggested.

“Mom, I can’t believe he dragged you down here,” Pro said. “You should only see him through this window.”

“What is that supposed to mean, Pro?”