Chapter Eight
Tuesday, 9:53 a.m.
I dodged a puddle of slush on the sidewalk as I trudged toward Owen O’Connell’s office the next morning. My shoulders felt as if they were bearing an invisible burden. I made a conscious effort to straighten them beneath the thick fabric of my green peacoat, which was cinched tightly around my waist. I flipped up the collar in an effort to ward off a chilly morning breeze. (As much as I would have preferred it, I could hardly show up at a law firm for a meeting involving the police in my parka and snow pants.)
Several passers-by tried to stop me to chat, but I just waved and ignored them. I adjusted my sunglasses on the bridge of my nose and tugged my knitted hat lower around my curls. The problem with living in a small town is that everyone knows who yo
