"I stopped believing in coincidences," I said. Nothing I knew about Cam Blake gave me much insight on why he would be targeted.
"Evidently, so did Thomson."
The drive between my house and the funeral home listed in Kate's obituary only took ten minutes.
It didn't take enough time. I needed a few extra minutes for mental preparation, but just like every curveball thrown at me in the last two weeks, I didn't get the luxury of reaction time.
We parked on the street across from the funeral home, the Datsun looking extraordinarily out of place amid respectable middle class family cars and minivans.
At least we looked the part of mourners, dressed in black and bearing heavy souls. The closer I got to the building, the more my heart weighed. Each step brought me closer to a feeling of being
