GRACE FOSTER WAS AN attractive woman, whose face still showed the vestiges of great beauty beneath the ravages of time and hard work. She showed them into her office, a small, cluttered room lined on three sides by scarred wooden bookshelves. She cleared a pile of clean towels off one chair and whisked a stack of mail off another and offered them the chairs. “I apologize for the state of my office, Detective. It’s been a bit hectic around here lately as I’m sure you know.”
Brita nodded and sat while Percy eschewed the offer of a seat and indicated the book shelves. “Do you mind?”
Grace smiled. “Be my guest. I think you’ll find I have a full set of Smart Murders, Inc. books on those shelves. They’re one of the most popular choices among my residents.”
Percy reached up and touched the spi
