Janey couldn’t let go of Viola Martin. They wept together, and the images of Viola’s black eye and bruised face would haunt Janey forever.
They finally separated, and Janey settled into the same chair she’d eaten lunch in previously.
“Start at the beginning,” Janey said.
“Oh, that awful man showed up,” Viola said, and none of her sass had been taken from her. She reached up to pat her hair, which looked as if she’d just gotten it set, and pursed her lips. “He wanted my boat, and I said no. This time, he had his terrible wife with him, and she told me if I didn’t give her the key to her boat, she’d make sure I regretted it.”
“She refused,” Miles said. “Before I knew it, the blonde woman had plunged a needle into Miss Martin’s neck, and she was falling to the ground. I rushed toward her,
