9
I took a deep breath through my nose and let it out through my mouth to ease my frustration. “I’ll be right out.”
I put the books in the desk drawer to my right. Not that anyone would be able to tell with a glance what I had been working on, but one never knew how nosy the cops would get. I reminded myself that the sheriff had a legitimate reason for being there: a woman who had gone missing had died in my home. I couldn’t hide amongst my books if I was going to prove my innocence.
I walked through the den and surprised a forensic team member in the act of wrapping the leather couch to be transported to their lab in Little Rock. I hated to lose it—it had been my grandfather’s, after all—but I decided I’d rather not be reminded someone had died on it. I made a mental note to talk to Ga
