Chapter Twelve

1383 Words

Chapter TwelveTrevor yawned as he entered the precinct and hurried toward his office. Sleep eluded him for most of the night while he wrestled with clues and theories about Amelia Harrell’s death. “Good morning, sir,” Sergeant Brookes said from the front desk. “DS Phillips would like to see you at your convenience.” “Thank you, Sergeant. Send him in.” “Yes, sir.” Another yawn overtook him, and Trevor shook his head. A groggy head would not help him solve anything. He entered his office and tossed his hat on the bookcase. Dropping in the chair behind the desk, he opened the Harrell file. He studied the top sheet on which he had diagrammed his thoughts about the case. Three columns stared at him. In the first, persons of interest, including his dear Ruth. Trevor rubbed his burning eyes.

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