A three AM phone call about a locked room changed everything

through the sheer curtains, casting square patterns on the wall. Stacey did not take her coat off. She sat with the blue notebook flat on her knees, her hands pressed over the cover as if it might slide away.

“I went into his office tonight,” she said, her chin shaking. “After he called from the hotel in Cleveland to say goodnight.”

“You have a key to continue reading …