“There was a car I didn’t recognize parked right behind the Jeep Wrangler that Emma drove. I heard Wally barking when I rang the bell, and I recognized the man who answered the door. I had seen him in court several times—the state medical examiner, Marcus Franklin. My knees went shaky. Something bad had happened. “I’m Lena Padget. I work for Emma. She called me?” He seemed more like a host than a professional when he shook my hand and invited me in. “I was here when she called. I’m Marcus Frankl...in.” “I know.” He raised an eyebrow at me, and Wally rushed to greet me as soon as I was through the door. “Down, Wally,” Franklin said. Wally immediately dropped all paws to the floor. “Marcus, how do you do that?” I looked up and saw Emma sitting alone in the kitchen. Her voice had that flat quality common to people under stress. She looked fragile, her eyes dark and lost. Her worry simmered beneath the surface, as tangible as a pot boiling on the stove. “Any news about Blaine?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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