Mack expected Heather to drop her off in front of her house. Once again, there was no parking on her street when they pulled up. To her surprise, though, Heather threw on the hazards and turned off the car.
“Oh, hey,” Mack said, suddenly remembering, “I didn’t get to see one of your tattoos.”
Heather laughed as she turned on the overhead light. “They’re nothing to write home about…”
“Still,” Mack insisted, “let me see.”
Heather’s sleeves were snug, so Mack helped her tug one up to her elbow, exposing her forearm and the tattoo Mack had glimpsed earlier. For a long moment she stared at it, not quite sure what she was seeing. Then she tilted her head to one side; maybe it’d make sense if she looked at it on an angle.
No, not really.
At first glance, it looked like a traditional female
