Chapter Twenty-EightTrevor stepped from the police cruiser and buttoned his coat. The murky sunlight was no match for the chilling breeze, which carried the scent of snow. On days like this, he wished he worked in a cozy office. Should have been a solicitor like his uncle, rather than a policeman like his father. Water under the bridge.
He walked up the stairs and used the ornate brass knocker. He had not telephoned Millicent's family to notify them of his impending visit. Better to catch them unawares.
The door swung open, and Millicent's sister stood in front of him, dressed as if on her way to an important appointment. Surprise flitted across her face before a polite mask slid into place.
“Good afternoon, Miss Davenport. May I speak with your father?”
“Do you have news about my sist
