A three AM phone call about a locked room changed everything

later,” I said, picking up a heavy box of books.

“Right now, we need to load the trunk before the commuter traffic starts.”

We carried the first two bins down the front steps, our footsteps loud in the quiet driveway.

The air smelled of woodsmoke and damp pine needles.

I opened the trunk of Stacey’s sedan.

The blue notebook was already continue reading …