Chapter Thirteen
We bailed my car out of the garage and checked out of the motel the next morning at around ten. Duvall had already left. The ride home felt longer than it was, but the car was running. It had only cost me several hundred dollars in repairs, a night’s stay at a cheap motel, and ten years off my life from the close call in Breezewood. I’d have to remember to put preventive maintenance a little higher on my to-do list.
Melanie was quiet. She looked like I was taking her to her execution. I turned on the radio to fill the uncomfortable silence. After stopping for lunch, we went to the police.
I waited up front while they processed her. Detective Derry came out and motioned me to follow him. He took me down a hall, past a series of offices to a conference room where they see
