A three AM phone call about a locked room changed everything

down near his right hand.

Alan did not look up from his spreadsheet, but his finger stopped on the column of numbers he had been calculating. “She’s local, sweetheart. It saves the agency on travel expenses.”

“She did six appraisals for you this quarter,” I said, leaning against the counter. “Including forty-two Oak Street on Tuesday.”

Alan rotated his continue reading …