It was a place of lies. The police knew that from bitter experience. A gray cubicle with glass for one wall and a locked door for another, it was, for lack of better words, called an interrogation room. The young woman who sat across the beige Formica-topped table from Lieutenant David Sharp and Lieutenant Steven Riles looked as if she had already been interrogated by the father of all lies and copped a plea sign in warm blood. Yet both cops, even before they gently but thoroughly tore into her, wanted to believe Mary Dammon, largely because she looked so hurt and so cute. Pain and beauty in the same package- always a bestseller, even with cops as weary as Sharp and Riles.
Execution of Innocence by Christopher Pike