Meghan looked at her phone and said, “I don’t have much time.”
We all stood up, Lovecraft a bit unsteadily. I grabbed the wrapped book I’d brought in a FreshCo shopping bag and eyed him carefully, not wanting to bring on another panic attack. “So what about my muff ...?” I started to ask, but they were already out on the sidewalk. I shut up and followed them.
Meghan was the only one of us who was one hundred per cent sure where to go next. Lovecraft, still dazed, looked at his wristwatch and spoke vaguely about “making some calls.” We milled about for a bit, then followed Meghan toward Jackson Square. I scanned the street, still empty on this Sunday morning. Behind us, a police car whizzed down Hughson. Up ahead, a white delivery vehicle idled at the corner of James, its hazard lights bl
