Chapter 7Later that Thursday morning, after working out at the Grey Sports Complex and drafting an article for a mystery journal about Alfred Hitchcock's early career, I texted Connor to find out when he'd return from San Francisco. I assumed he was still in the Pacific Time Zone, but his lack of a response meant he was either in flight or busily attending to the case. I desperately wanted to find out what else the coroner had shared with April, and I was certain Connor might be slightly more open to telling me. My brother and I had similar-sized hands, and they were unquestionably larger than average. If what the coroner had told the sheriff was accurate, Gabriel couldn't have been responsible for strangling Quint Crawford.
I strolled across North Campus and headed toward Memorial Librar
