Chapter Seven
She slid the pizza she couldn’t finish onto Mark’s plate sitting on his scratched and nicked coffee table. His dog, which he refused to name, was lying beside her on the sofa, whereas Mark was on his cell phone again. Who he was talking to, she didn’t have a clue, considering he was about as forthcoming on everything as she was.
Even she was having some trouble with what Mavis had said about the family. She considered the notes Mark had scribbled in the file while they were eating, and she wondered how it was that this case was beginning to feel anything but closed. She wasn’t a cop, but she knew that much. The system was something she knew well, and it still scared the hell out of her.
She glanced up, realizing Mark was no longer on the phone, and took in what was left of
