A three AM phone call about a locked room changed everything

reached out to straighten the collar, my fingers brushed against a long, fine blonde hair clinging to the dark lapel.

“You smell like a campfire,” I said, stepping back.

“The regional office had a retreat out by the lake,” Alan said, deflecting the question with a quick smile as he rotated his silver watch on his wrist. “Don’t start, sweetheart. It was continue reading …