Chapter 10 Chicken Parmesan. The tasty aroma lifted the police chief ’s low spirits as he wiped his boots carefully along a thin welcome mat and entered the house through the side door, leaving the evening chill behind him.
God bless her, he thought to himself, his empty stomach grumbling for attention.
Hearing some shuffling and the clank of a pot or pan coming from the kitchen, Lumbergh rested his back along the edge of the door frame as he removed his Italian Berluti boots. They resembled dress shoes, but the soles were thick and the tread was deep—perfect for working the mountainous area of Winston, and they looked slick in the process.
“Honey?” prompted a female voice from around the corner of the dimly lit, narrow hallway.
“It’s me,” he responded, twisting the knob of the closet
