Now, where had she put that list? Was it in the top drawer of the sideboard in the dining room at Bill’s? Or was it in one of the little drawers of her sewing machine? Whichever, she needed to stop home—well, to what used to be home—to look for it before she went to police headquarters for an interview with Lieutenant Hanson. How stupid she’d been, letting that list out of her sight for so long. She began to empathize with Larry, who’d been careless with the diary. The list was evidence, and there were plenty of samples of Violet’s handwriting for comparison.
Dana called in sick to her workplace. Damn! This was exactly what Larry would do in her situation. Maybe Larry wasn’t any worse than the average person.
She took the bus to Dinkytown and walked toward home—God, she really needed to
