15 NoraNora pulled open the Heartbaker Shop’s glass entry door. A dizzying blast of aromas hit her.
Pleasantly stunned, she breathed in the mingled scents of hot doughnuts and fresh coffee.
Warm steamy air dampened the skin on her cheeks and arms as if she’d been misted with doughnut essence. She smelled good enough to eat.
She loved meeting informally with cops.
Not one had ever declined to spend an hour with her in a doughnut shop.
Since she was meeting a federal agent, she’d aimed for a businesslike look. Her chocolate-brown T-shirt was silk and went well with her tan cotton slacks. Brown cowhide loafers were the finishing touch.
Her outfit didn’t advertise that she was a lawyer the way her go-to-court clothes did.
Federal agents normally spoke only with the prosecution. Discreti
