25 NoraNora lowered herself onto the chair seat’s green leather upholstery. Brass tacks studded the slick padded arms and marched along the curved back. The shiny metal heads matched the brass in the seal of the United States inlaid into the walnut-paneled wall facing her.
She breathed in the smells of leather and paste wax and picked up a whiff of something that didn’t belong. Sniffing again, she identified the source of the faint chemical odor.
The dry cleaners had left their spoor in the wool fabric of the coal-black jacket she wore over a matching sleeveless sheath dress.
She giggled, the sound loud in the empty space. At least her outfit smelled better than it had right after her hard-fought battle in a Parma superior courtroom fourteen days ago.
Only two weeks had passed since sh
