CHAPTER FORTY FIVE
Bill drove as fast as he could manipulate his car through traffic. After the local cops had arrived at Riley’s home, he’d tried to call Blaine several times but had gotten no answer. He figured that even without the siren and lights of an official car, he could reach Blaine’s house as fast as a 911 call would get someone there to check things out.
What the hell’s going on? Bill wondered.
When Bill pulled up in front of Blaine’s house, it didn’t look like anything was amiss, at least not from outside.
He parked his car and ran to the front entrance. But ringing the doorbell and pounding on the door didn’t get an answer either. And the door was locked.
Bill’s heart was pounding now, and he was seized by massive waves of guilt and self-doubt.
Had he made a fatal mista
