Sitting cross-legged on the attic desk, Jessica could hear birds singing through their early morning ablutions. The shock of Wolfgang Schmutzig’s corpse had sobered her up some, but the booze was making it hard to concentrate as she drifted in and out of a tingly haze.
The smell of death mingling with w**d still burned her nostrils. She’d been up for almost twenty-four hours and more than anything her body craved sleep, but needles of anxiety pricked at her skin, making sleep impossible.
She’d just seen a dead body for the first time and she couldn’t tell anyone. Breaking and entering, illegal drugs… Talk about self-incrimination! She slid her hands under her tailbone to keep them from trembling.
Talk about self-incrimination!She was nauseated thinking of the Wolf, fully clothed, lying
