CHAPTER SIXTEENJessica
By the time I awoke later that morning, Liz had already gone
to work. I wondered if she’d heard about the murder. Did Liz watch CNN? If it
was on CNN, it was probably in The Washington Post, too.
Even though I hadn’t done anything, I worried that Liz could be
accused of harboring a fugitive.
I got Liz’s Mr. Coffee brewing and searched the kitchen for
breakfast choices, rejecting Liz’s healthy cereal, which looked more like bird
food than breakfast. As I waited for my bagel to toast, I agonized over the
implications of hiding out in her place. Holing up here could put Liz’s bar
license at risk.
But where would I go? I’d already left the state. Should I turn
myself in to the D.C. or Boulder police? My previous dealings with the Boulder
cops were less than
