CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Night had fallen and the only thing Camille had to be remotely happy about was the fact that the Carl Griffin link seemed to have made a few people on the local police force happy. Sometimes, she supposed, fate had a way of offering little rewards in the face of failure.
She and Palmer were sitting in the bureau sedan, parked in front of a little dive called Goldie's Chicken, eating a dinner that was surprisingly delicious. It was one of only two places to eat in Hen Creek and seemed to be a rather popular spot judging from the packed lot. They were sharing a six-piece meal with all the fixings and Camille thought the coleslaw might be the best she'd ever eaten.
"So here's a question," Palmer said as he tossed the remnants of a chicken leg back into the greasy box contai
