Chapter Nine
Tuesday, 10:30 a.m.
Exactly thirty minutes after our original appointment, Detective Sharp escorted me into Owen O’Connell’s office. I had taken a quick shower to rinse the grime from my hair and ensure my body temperature was back up to normal so my legs wouldn’t betray me by itching. I now wore a clean pair of dark jeans and a lilac turtleneck sweater beneath my green parka. (My peacoat was still dripping wet.) I had thought about wearing my snow pants (just in case), but I left them behind to prevent Detective Sharp from making fun of me.
“They’re waiting for you in the conference room, detective,” Corinne said from her usual position behind the hulking oak desk in the reception area. The petite woman hadn’t changed in all the years she had served as Owen’s secretary. He
