CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
Curly Con Merchants“I’m so sorry, is that what Jen did to you?” Vanessa rose as Kit stalked across the cafe. She stared at her cheek, reaching her arms out as though to hug her before stalling. The look of derision fixed over Kit’s slender features created a barrier. She yanked her purse from a patent handbag and jerked her chin at the counter. “What would you like? My treat.”
Kit sank into the seat opposite and sighed. Having recovered her belongings from Detective Lane, she’d discovered her best plimsolls in a terrible state. White fingerprint powder coated the uppers and laces while a sticky substance caused the soles to stick to everything they touched. It smelled like floral alcohol, and the blatant disregard for her property rankled. She’d intended to continue the
