Chapter Four
“I’m sorry, you want to do what?” Mitch asked, his knuckles white as he gripped his desk in disbelief.
“You heard me. I want to figure out who was behind this. I mean, the city and government is my beat, why wouldn’t I try to figure out who robbed the bank and why?” I asked.
Mitch and I had been around the bend more than once since I came in to work that morning. Though he was glad I was okay and made no secret of saying so, he didn’t seem to appreciate my interest in following the story through to its logical conclusion — especially after I told him Mueller forbid me from doing so.
“Zoe, I don’t know if this hasn’t set in for you yet or what, but whoever tried to rob the bank also nearly killed you,” Mitch said. “I know you have a little bit of an adrenaline addiction, bu
