CHAPTER TWENTY-THREEI was no closer to finding Billy Ray’s real killer, and I’d managed to get Jamila’s car vandalized. Now, I’d have the thankless job of explaining that to her, made doubly hard by staying out all night then hanging up after she’d called to make sure I was okay.
I held my throbbing head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping it was all a terrible nightmare. I ventured to open them and, unfortunately, it was all too real.
Heaving a sigh, I slammed the hood shut, locked the car and started walking.
At barely the crack o’ dawn, I chose not to call Jamila right away about the car. I burned with guilt. I hoped that she’d simply gone back to sleep and thought no more about me after I’d ended our call so summarily. Didn’t she have enough problems?
The odor of fried eg
