The Harrisons didn't own a cat. Neither did Chuck's uncle where he'd gone fishing the day before he'd died. Financial records on the Eatons, the Hernandezs, and Wayne Radcliff turned up no large deposits or withdrawals to imply a hired hit.
As Nick pulled into Trisha's long, maple-lined driveway, a smile touched his lips, regardless of the horrible incidents surrounding them lately. Large sheets, made up to resemble ghosts, were hanging from every other tree, stark white against the warm colors of the leaves. Bushels of dried cornstalks were secured to the undecorated tree trunks, making a checkered pattern as he drove in.
Unless her men had returned early, Trisha had been working. And working meant she was bouncing back.
He needed to meet with her parents and ask more questions, but af
