Chapter Twenty-Two
Blake
I took one last look at the Deana Long’s photo before I tucked the file under my arm.
The door swung open, and I found my only witness to the dory murder sitting at a table, looking like she might pass out. Michelle was thirty-five and worked part-time as a fitness instructor.
“I’m Detective Daniels.” I pulled the back of the chair and took a seat. “First, I want to thank you for coming down here today. I know it’s not easy.”
“Yeah.” She rubbed her face, and the dark circles under her eyes told me she hadn’t slept in a few days.
“Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea—”
“Tequila?” She laughed darkly. “No, thank you. I’m good. But I could use Deana back.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” She sniffed on cue, and I dismissed my skeptical hit to the gut.
