CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jessie pulled up to the address Crutchfield had given her, trying to ignore the shiver of nervous anticipation that ran down her back.
She was late. It was 4:15 and the sky had already begun to darken as the sun was beginning to fade in the west. She could have been here by 4 p.m., as he had requested. But she had intentionally chosen not to make it in time.
Am I just that stubborn? Did I do it merely out of spite? Probably some combination of both.
She’d been driving to the address when she suddenly pulled over at a coffee shop a few blocks away around 3:45 and spent the next half hour in the place, sipping a hot tea and checking her phone. She told herself it was to keep up with developments in the Missinger case. But that was a lie. She just didn’t want to feel like
