CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Coffee and Curls“How can I help you, Miss Maguire?” Boredom infused Lane’s tone and he rubbed nicotine-stained fingers along his jaw. He glanced at his watch. The yawn he released told Kit to hurry.
She leaned back against the plastic chair and inhaled a fortifying breath. “When I arrived at Debbie’s house, I saw two pairs of flip-flops on her front door mat.”
Lane peered back at his notes and gave a slow nod. “Yes, you said. Where are you going with this, Miss Maguire? I have a murder to solve.” He puffed out his chest and lifted his chin, exhaustion marring the attempt at importance.
Kit closed her eyes and imagined the scene as Jackson led her from the garage. They’d turned right and headed through the open front door to the waiting police car. Someone had wedged
