Chapter 22
Several days later I was sitting in my living room, catching up on some knitting I’d neglected since the winter Olympic Games — the ones in Nagano, not Salt Lake City — when somebody knocked at my door.
With a sigh, I laid down my knitting, and peeked out through the curtains. Eva Haberman stood on my porch. Incredibly, Cassandra Matthews was with her.
“Hannah,” Eva said after I’d opened the door and ushered the women into my entrance hall. “You remember Cassandra Matthews.”
“Roger’s boss?” I said cautiously, extending my hand. “We met at St. Cat’s, as I recall.”
“Former boss,” Cassandra corrected.
“I bailed her out,” Eva explained.
Normally, I trusted Eva’s judgment, but bailing out the woman who may have murdered her husband was a bit too forward-thinking, even for me.
