Chapter EighteenFEAR KNOTTED INSIDE her, the color draining from her face as she slowly turned around. Josh stood close behind her, hooded gray eyes revealing nothing. He smiled, but it was a cold smile. He looked pointedly at her bare hands that weren’t holding a column.
“It was kind of odd for you to call me with a lead, Miss Myrtle. Especially since you’ve been bound and determined to solve this case yourself. I thought I might just stick around and see what exactly you were up to.”
Myrtle stood straight and faced him squarely, one hand leaning back on Sloan’s desk, holding on to the corner for support. “No, Josh. I was looking for you, actually. I wanted to talk to you about Parke Stockard.”
Remembering her tape recorder, she slipped her hand inside her dangling handbag to hit the
