Chapter FifteenI
spent Friday morning at my desk with a pile of end-of-quarter accounting work. My mind drifted to the murder case several times, but my clients’ profits and losses reclaimed my attention each time I started counting suspects instead of numbers.
At eleven-thirty I drove to Hudson Road to make a few business visits. I met Garland High principal Ray Ortiz on the sidewalk in front of my insurance client’s office.
Ray joked, with a gleam in his eyes, “Do you self-employed folks have summer hours?”
“Every year, I promise myself I’m going to institute a policy, but, for one reason or another, I break it after two or three Fridays of closing shop at noon.”
“Would you have time to drop by the school today? A few donations for Laurel have been mailed or dropped off at my office
