“Goodness,” Myla muttered under her breath as she stepped to the side to allow a policeman pass with a cuffed woman in a skimpy dress. “This place is so overstimulating. I can’t imagine the kind of migraine one would get staying in here all day.” 

The downtown precinct was a hive of controlled chaos. The air was thick with the smell of burnt coffee, old paper, and the sharp tang of floor wax. Telephones rang incessantly, and the low hum of voices formed a backdrop to the flickering ...