Chapter 7
Monday dawned clear and cold. I started the coffee and put water for the oatmeal on to boil before dashing outside in my pajamas to pick up the newspapers. I walked back to the kitchen, preoccupied, scanning the headlines. Nothing new about the Sturges case in the Baltimore paper. I wondered if no news was good news, and told Paul that I would be holding my breath until someone I wasn’t even slightly related to was arrested for the crime.
Twenty minutes later, Paul left for the academy. I thought he’d be staying home on Martin Luther King Day, but he claimed he had work to catch up on. I was still sitting at the table over a cup of cooling coffee. I had no game plan; but I had promised Paul I’d think twice before going off half-c****d. So far I had thought no further than plann
