“Detective Madison muttered when he walked into Lacy Cakes and spotted me. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t glad to see me. I sure as heck wasn’t thrilled at seeing him. Detective Madison and I had a long history—but not the good kind. He’d investigated several murders at which I was a casual bystander—I swear—but Madison never saw it that way. He’d tried numerous times to find me guilty of something but never had. I don’t think that helped our relationship. I hadn’t seen Madison in a while, but he had...n’t changed much. He had the belly of a sumo wrestler covered by a shirt with straining buttons, a tie with a gravy stain, and a sport coat his mom had probably bought for him when he’d graduated from the police academy thirty-some years ago. I’d called 9-1-1 as soon as I’d found the body under the worktable and waited by the front door until cops showed up in their patrol cars. Detective Madison had arrived a few minutes later—I guess it was a slow day in L.A. murder-wise—but I didn’t see his partner, Detective Shuman.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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