CHAPTER THIRTY
Keri sat across the street from the nursery, lost in thought. She ignored the employees who had come out into the street to stare at the burning apartment building several hundred yards away.
She was putting puzzle pieces together in her head, making sure they all fit. Petrossian lived nearby but his apartment wasn’t equipped to hide an abducted girl. He would want to keep her someplace close by for easy access, somewhere he felt comfortable.
His boss, George McHugh, had said he really liked caring for plants; that he had a green thumb. Even years ago, back in Elkhurst, he had mowed lawns.
Then she recalled the language of the letters. They were littered with terms like “pruned,” “grow,” “uprooted,” “soil,” “weeds,” and “fertilizing.” She even recalled a reference to a “
