A three AM phone call about a locked room changed everything

was twisting her silver hoop earrings, her fingers moving in quick, nervous circles.

“You look like you didn’t sleep at all,” Stacey said, her voice faster than usual.

“I found a blonde hair on Alan’s coat last night,” I said, setting my purse on the empty chair. “It was long. Not mine.”

Stacey stopped twisting her earring for a fraction continue reading …