Detective Eric Pederssen tosses his TV remote across the rug, disturbing his cat Siam from his afternoon nap. The Siamese glares at him before resettling on the sofa. Eric picks up his glass of single malt Scotch, downing the remains.
“She released the shooter’s name!” he shouts. “Damn stupid reporters.”
His door buzzer rings; he jumps up to answer it. Kissing Leonora Cavish on the cheek while she takes off her coat, he heads to the kitchen to pour her a glass of red wine.
“I heard,” Leonora says. “The news anchor released the shooter’s name. That bastard knows we know who he is. Thank you.” She takes her glass from Eric, kissing him back. “His family are originally from Winnipeg. Work in construction.”
“And the girl who led the attack, Felicity Harmon, daughter of a real estate mogul,
