Chapter ThirtyMudge came down the ladder from Lydia’s loft with good news. His cousin Charlene was working the evening shift in Wareham. If they left now, they could catch her on dinner break and be back in time for the wake.
“Wareham?” Pocketing her cell phone, Lydia recalled the one order she’d been given by both Pete Altman and Helen Wills. “Isn’t that, like, on the mainland?”
He nodded. “I can go in the truck if you want.”
“No way.”
Could the cops arrest a person just for crossing the Cape Cod Canal? Unlikely. Would they have checkpoints set up at the bridges? Very, very unlikely.
Would Sherlock Holmes miss a key interview and stay at Baker Street, would Miss Marple sit home knitting in St. Mary Mead, because the police said not to leave the area?
She stuck a note on Edgar Rowdey
