8
Olsen helped me pick up the papers and sat unselfconsciously next to me on the bed. We skimmed through the scant public records I’d gathered, including documents filed in court and from then-Jimmy’s time with the Department of Corrections. I showed Olsen a list of people I’d interviewed and gave him a rundown on what I’d learned, but I didn’t show him my notes. (Old habits of wary sharing with law enforcement die hard.) We put Post-its on a few things to copy and stood to leave. Olsen walked to my window and looked out.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you. My window looks out from the side of the house, so I couldn’t see either parking lot last night.”
“Would you have heard a car?”
“I doubt it. This is a pretty substantial piece of property by normal people standards, but it’s not as far fr
