Chapter Eighteen
By the time Aloha arrived home it was after eight. She closed the front door of her condo and sank back against the painted wood of the door. She closed her eyes and emitted a deep sigh. Her entire body ached as if she’d just completed a marathon. And she hadn’t run one of those in ten years.
What a day.
A sharp rap on the door made her senses suddenly alert. Who could it be? She didn’t have any friends, and Elvis had an impersonator gig at the Friday night TZC staff party. Her deputy had asked her to come, but she’d begged off explaining she was too tired to play the super happy party sheriff.
“Who is it?” she said.
“Hanson Braddock.”
Hanson? What is he doing here? “Ok,” she said. “Just a minute.” She unfastened her gun belt and, after taking it off, sh
