“Absolutely not!” Heather MacIntyre’s delicate features contort with anger. “We almost lost our Bessie. We are not … do you hear me, Art? We are not going to put our Lee at risk by assisting the police. Sorry, Eric.” She grabs the coffee pot from the stove.
not notCold morning sunshine fills the kitchen with dull light. Art and Eric sit at the table. The aroma of cinnamon still lingers in the air from the remains of a hot oatmeal breakfast. Leila and Bessie are upstairs getting ready for school. In a room off the kitchen, known as the “Wreck Room”, piles of brightly colored material spill out. Swatches for Heather’s new home business are announced by a handmade sign stuck on the door that reads “Kool-Belts 4 Kids”.
“I understand,” the detective tells them. “I’d never put either of your
