7 NoraNora parked her full coffee mug on top of the newspaper vending machine and moved the battered metal chair out from under the overhanging roof. The legs screeched against the narrow concrete walkway.
She planted her backside on the uncushioned seat, smoothed her khaki slacks, and undid the single button on her midnight-blue cotton sweater. She’d worn her blandest and most boring outfit. After talking with Kent, she didn’t want anyone she met today to see her as threatening.
Parma was one of several small cities clustered along the Columbia, Snake, and Yakima Rivers in southeast Washington. After the disastrous fire eight years ago had destroyed fifteen riverside blocks downtown, new modern buildings had risen on the charred ground. This morning, though, she was a mile north of the
