CHAPTER 11: Celia Arrives With Clean Hands

Celia Whitmore arrived before the police.
She came through the service gate in a linen suit that did not belong near smoke or grease. Vanessa met her at the bottom of the stairs, whispering quickly, but Celia's eyes were already on Daniel.
'Mr. Price,' she said, pleasant as a blade. 'My nephew has a history of manipulation.'
Daniel held up the key. 'Your nephew was hungry.'
For the first time, Celia's smile slipped.
Customers had begun gathering at a distance. Vendors left their burners low and watched from behind counters. This was the first thing Celia could not control: witnesses with aprons on, hands dirty, memories long enough to compare her speeches with their invoices.
'Give me the key,' she said.
Daniel thought of Jonah thanking him like a man not used to being believed.
'No,' he answered.