CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Stella and Maxwell sat down in the Chicopee Police Department’s admin office, using a desk which the sergeant had kindly cleared. The back office was a small, cluttered, busy place with a faint whiff of cigarette smoke blowing in through the back door, which was opened a c***k. Outside, the smokers were huddled against the wall to shelter from the day’s cold.
Over the months she had been with the FBI, Stella had learned to open her laptop and notebook and work absolutely anywhere, shutting out her surroundings. That was what she did now.
Within a minute, she wasn’t aware of the scent of smoke, or the flickering light above her, or the laughter on the other side of the room as three uniformed cops shared a humorous moment. All she was focused on was the timeline, witn
