CHAPTER NINE
Sharon sat in the police station, wondering if she should tell the detective in the next room the whole story. She wondered if her mother had, just before they carted her off to the Women's House of Detention, ten minutes before. She looked through the glass window at the gray-haired cop that would be asking her a million questions in just a few minutes. He looked friendly enough, maybe she would. And he had a nice name-like something out of a private-eye movie; Chet Carter. Detective Chet Carter. It sounded groovy. Maybe she would level with him at that-if she only knew how much her mother had told.
Marion McEvers had indeed told quite a story, and at this moment Detective Chet Carter was trying to put it all in place inside his head. Best he could figure, from the notes on
