“They’d waited three hours to meet with one of the detectives on the case. Finally, a woman in a wrinkled blouse, blood-shot eyes, and dirty-blonde hair led them to a couple chairs next to her small desk. “I’m Detective Larson. I understand you believe you have information for me on the Carla Stark case.” She sighed wearily, and Cedric wondered when she’d last gotten a good night’s sleep. Judging by the state of her clothes, she hadn’t gotten one the night before. “Yes.” Bella nodded and cleared... her throat. Cedric held her cold, clammy hand, feeling helpless and impotent. The detective leaned forward, hands clasped in front of her on her messy desk. She glanced at her watch impatiently. Most likely assuming this would be one more dead end in what was probably an entire slew of dead ends. “I was attacked a couple months ago in that same area. In fact, I’d been in O’Reilly’s that evening. My attacker was frightened away by a homeless man before he finished what he started.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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