Chapter Twenty-Three
Wednesday, 3:26 p.m.
I thundered down the metal stairs to my apartment a few moments later. I had managed to throw on the same pair of dark jeans and the charcoal sweater I had worn to the funeral before running my hand through my dishevelled curls and deciding I was good to go. I had flung my green parka on top (and my satchel, of course) as I had jammed my socked feet into my boots. I didn’t know whether the detective would be meeting me inside or outside. My peacoat was dressier, but my parka was warmer, and I didn’t want to take any chances. I just hoped I didn’t end up regretting not wearing my snow pants.
I emerged from the back door to my apartment into the alley behind the bookstore in a breathless rush, just as a police cruiser rolled up. I kept a wary dist
