Chapter Fourteen
The following morning, Taz sat at her dilapidated metal desk in the Avondale Sheriff’s Office. Being temporarily assigned to Scottsdale hadn’t eased the burden of paperwork on the home-front and someone had cut down a cardboard box and scrawled her name across in marker. It was half filled with reports, memos, bulletins, and pink telephone slips.
Taz sorted the box. Connie Whyte, the Tribute newspaper reporter, had called three times; once to inquire about Boyko’s sudden demise, then a query about a woman being attacked in an elevator. And a third message, demanding now, for answers. Taz shook her head. Where did Connie get her information? And who was she screwing for it? Taz balled up each of the message slips and tried to rim-shot her waste basket. Two outta three.
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