THIRTY-FIVE
Freddie’s suggestion reminded Vivian of the Murder Tours bus that had passed her apartment building, and how the driver had slowed down and stared at her. She remembered that the driver was the same man who had driven the bus the night of Joanna’s reading at Coit Tower. Why did he do that, she wondered? Was he just cruising me, or did it have something to do with Joanna? She fired up her MacBook when she got home and surfed to the Murder Tours website.
The home page was filled with links and information about the various tours the company offered, including lurid photos and descriptions of the crimes that had been committed at the stops on the tour. “See where it happened,” the copy promised. “Murder and mayhem on the streets of San Francisco. And you are there.” Vivian click
