We just aren't sure where the jar was, Captain. Her cheeks burn. The cops probably assumed a woman coming back here to question me would be less intrusive than a male. Perhaps her comrades sent her back here for that reason, or maybe it was simply that she got the assignment because no one else wanted to tangle with me. I have been through this many times.
Nothing is clear.
What happened is a blur, an unreal torquing of reality. Callaway asks me. I was on the other side of the couch. Near the sliding glass door. Calloway scratches through something she is writing on her small memo pad.