Chapter Sixty
Michaela
Monday, January 5th
The route to work was all surface streets and the lights were timed for the amount of traffic at each hour. In L.A., you always had to weigh whether it’d be faster to deal with traffic and lights versus the limited speed of residential shortcuts—though there were none today. I had to use Pasadena’s major streets to reach the Strawbridge house.
I rang the doorbell at nine on the dot.
Yes, I had to ring the bell at my employer every day. Eccentric authors yada-yada… Mrs. Fletcher always let me in with a smile. From then, I headed to his office.
Pasadena had many vintage and historic homes. The Strawbridge house was one of the most pristine since he’d been the sole owner most of its life. While the rest of his place was pretty light and bright,
