I got up early the following morning to meet Underwood at the bookstore. It was going to be a scorcher. At eight o’clock in the morning, the inside of my car was already blazing hot. No clouds floated in the sky, just a massive ball of sunshine. I cranked the air conditioner while racing to Teresa’s Bookstore. I wasn’t used to getting out of bed before nine, since the bookstore didn’t open until ten.
When I stopped for a red light, I checked the volume on my cell phone. After Stone banged on my front door last night, concerned about my well-being, I made sure it was fully charged and not on silent. I wouldn’t make that mistake twice.
When I pulled onto Copper Street, I instantly spotted a cop car parked along the busy road. I didn’t have to see the vehicle number to know it belonged to U
