37 CAMERON CAITIFF
October 30
It was just past lunchtime when I got in my truck and headed over to Meadow Creek Drive. The crumpled piece of paper with the address scribbled on it sat haphazardly on top of the dashboard. I picked it up and stared at the name written across the top: Isra Kawn. I swallowed hard and gnawed at my ragged thumbnail. When I told Charlotte I’d pay the strange lady a visit, I never intended on doing it, but when she called me last night to tell me Ophelia Clark’s police report was bunk, she asked me if I’d been out to see Ms. Kawn. A little tit for tat, I guess. I must admit; I thought it was sexy of the doctor to take charge like that, but now that I was actually out here, my stomach was in knots.
It wasn’t uncommon for visitors of Monroe to stay at Meadow Cree
