Terin
KNOWING THAT BRONSON was sticking his nose where it didn’t belong made me livid. I wanted to drive to the precinct and threaten him with the tape I’d made, but instead I talked myself down and went home instead. When I arrived, I took a shower to try and calm down, got into a white terrycloth robe, and sat down on the sofa to think things through. As I closed my eyes, the doorbell rang. Wondering if it might be my sister or mother, I stood back up and looked through the peephole.
It was Bronson.
“What in the hell do you want?” I asked sharply, swinging the door open.
Bronson’s eyes went to my robe and he smirked. “I’m sorry, were you entertaining?”
“Very funny. Why are you here?”
“I think you’d better let me in,” he said. “Unless you want your neighbors hearing about your dirt
