FOURTEEN
By the time Vivian got home she was filled with anticipation. Because now, instead of living vicariously through the lives of fictional characters, she was living her own real life crime drama. And if she and Freddie did manage to solve Joanna’s murder, it would be as thrilling a tale as any she’d ever read. Even better because it would be true.
She understood they were taking a chance that could land them both in jail or worse, but she was in her late 20s now. Before the year was out she would turn 29. Three decades of her life had flashed by, like the pages she turned reading late into the night. If she didn’t start writing her own story now, then when?
She was about to put the bike in the garage when a Honda Civic with a boy racer exhaust system roared around the corner and
