“I said without preamble. I’d timed my visit to Mickey’s office for the ten-minute window between clients, so I made it short and to the point. She raised an inquiring eyebrow, but she opened her purse without comment. “It’s about Amber,” I confessed, deciding my colleague deserved to know why her car was about to cross the Verrazano Bridge into Staten Island. “Something’s come up and I need to talk to her right away.” Mickey handed over her car keys and said, “It’s parked on Bergen, on the othe...r side of Court. Near the taco place.” I nodded. Under other circumstances I’d have said something clever about the way Mickey’s car gravitated toward parking places in front of spicy food emporia, but now I just wanted to get out of her office. She didn’t say I told you so, but the muscles around her mouth were strained from the effort of not saying it. I had directions from my interview with Scott. I’d told them I wanted to make a home visit, to be able to report to the judge what kind of home they could make for their baby.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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