I didn't like where this was going. “Jillian?”
“Nope. But they found blood. A lot of it. And since you were the last person to see her, we've got a few questions for you.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“Not yet. But we'd like you to come downtown for some questioning. You are, as they say, a very interesting person to this case.”
This was bad. Very bad. The girl could be fine; maybe she just had a really bad visit from Aunt Flo and was so embarrassed she skipped town rather than tell her landlord about the mess. Though I had seen that very occurrence at least twice before, I doubted that was the case here. I remembered the girl—barely, I’m usually pretty drunk at the matches to dull the effect of the unpleasant violence unfolding between the ropes on my delicate stomach—but I certainly didn't h
