Six
I PROBABLY SHOULDN’T have walked all the way from Saint Clare’s to the police station. By car, it’s not that far. But I still haven’t dug my car out from the last roof-endangering snow storm, so walking was my only option. Wearing multiple layers of clothing, including a heavy wool overcoat and a knitted scarf Anna gave me for Christmas, by the time I get to the station my body is covered in sweat. I’m ok walking that far in regular weather conditions, but having to trudge through snow and slush has worn me out and left me gasping for air.
So by the time I’m at her office, I don’t so much open as fall against her door, flinging it open. I grasp the door frame to keep from face planting on her floor.
Panting, I growl, “Helen, I need you!”
Helen jumps out of her chair, half-eaten san
