Page 18 of The B-Team

“Ms. Ford-Talbot,” Maya said with long-suffering, “you’ve been taken into custody. What you want, and when you want it, isn’t the priority here. Investigative procedure is.”

“I don’t think so,” Rachel said before raising her voice. “Commander Fitzwater, if you want to talk to me, I suggest you do so now—unless you wish to do it in the delivery suite. Because I do believe that the stress of being unjustly detained has brought on early labor.”

Maya glanced at the constable, who gave her a “what could I do?” shrug.

“What’s going on out here?” Commander Fitzwater demanded as he joined them in the corridor. “Why isn’t that woman in a holding cell?”

“Because,” Rachel said, unintimidated, “that womanis having contractions. Which meansthat womanis in danger of giving birth in this filthy and completely inappropriate location.” She dismissed the commander, literally turning her back on him to address Maya. “Kindly ensurethat manmeets me in the interview room right now. Otherwise, I shall check out of this delightful facility and into a suite in the Lindo Wing of St. Mary’sHospital. Constable, please lead me to the interview room and ensure my lawyer is instructed to meet me there.”

The officer, who’d turned red, shot a wide-eyed look of confusion tinged with fear at the commander before following Rachel down the hallway.

Fitzwater's face was purple with fury. “Get that woman into a cell now.”

Maya’s head was pounding. “I’m not sure how we can achieve that, sir. She’s almost nine months pregnant, hasn’t been officially charged with anything yet, and is currently having contractions. If we physically manhandle her into a cell, she has every right to sue us, and the press will lap it up. We could, legally, ask the nurse to examine her, but all that would result in is Ms. Ford-Talbot being moved to the nearest hospital. It seems the only option is to question her now while she’s still able to participate in an interview.”

The commander’s fists clenched at his sides. “I willnotbe dictated to by a woman.”

Maya said nothing about his misogynistic comment. She just waited for him to realize he’d been outplayed. Rachel had the power in this situation. Not him.

Rachel’s lawyer, Ms. Patel, appeared at the end of the corridor. “Commander,” she said in her crisp, no-nonsense voice. “I have no idea how long my client will be willing to remain here, so I suggest we start the interview now.”

“Your client will stay here as long as I decide she’ll stay,” Fitzwater snapped.

Ms. Patel arched an eyebrow. “There are legal limits on how long you can hold anyone for questioning without bringing charges, Commander. And no court in the land would sanction you holding a woman in a detention cell when she is about to give birth.” She glanced at her watch. “If the interview hasn’t started in ten minutes, I’ll arrange to have my client moved tothe hospital of her choice.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared around the corner.

“How dare she tell me what to do!” Fitzwater fumed. “I’m the one in charge here. I’m in control.”

Maya wished she would melt into the wall behind her. As the only other person in the vicinity, she waited for the commander to blame her for his humiliation.

It didn’t take long.

Slowly, he turned his head toward her, and dark eyes glared her way. “Is this how you control your suspects, DI Singh?”

“No, sir. It seems these are exceptional circumstances. How would you have me proceed?”

As she watched him, she could almost see her career disappearing down the nearest toilet. One of the toilets Rachel Ford-Talbot deemed beneath her.

“Youwill interview Ms. Ford-Talbot,” he said with disdain. “Make sure you get the information I want, Singh. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. Excuse me, sir.”

Maya hurried away before anything else could fall on her head. No matter how this interview went, it wouldn’t please her boss. A sinking feeling made her stomach lurch. She knew how Fitzwater worked. As soon as this investigation was over, she’d find herself sidelined for the foreseeable future and probably bad-mouthed too. The man was vindictive. No grudge was too small to be beneath him.

Maybe it was time to start applying to other police forces.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Rachel Ford-Talbot wasn’t in the mood to play nice. Her phone and favorite handbag had been confiscated by the duty officer and were probably being pawed over while she waited in a nondescript room for a pompous little man to get over his ego and deal with her.

To make matters worse, she was afraid contractions actually had begun, although she was praying they were purely a false alarm. She glared down at her belly. This was not how she wanted to start this relationship. She’d booked the birthing suite at the hospital the royals used, scheduled a cesarean, and chosen the date the baby would arrive. The birth had been planned around her very busy schedule as CEO of one of Europe’s largest companies and silent partner in Benson Security. She used the term silent loosely. The team, she found, was in desperate need of her input on regular occasions.

“Are you okay?” Rachel’s lawyer glanced at her baby bump before focusing on Rachel’s face. Some people didn’t make it past the bump.

“Of course I’m not okay.”

Rachel tossed her long dark hair over the shoulder of her blood-red blouse. It had been custom-made by a couture housein London’s Mayfair district. The matching black pants were Prada, again, custom-designed to fit her blossoming frame. She was dressed as she always was, in her armor of designer brands, but she still felt naked without her phone. It made her a little tetchy.

“What I mean is,” Ms. Patel said, unfazed by Rachel’s attitude, “are you about to give birth?”