Decoded

One look in the mirror and she gasped. Slade had insisted on leaving her purse in her car, so she had nothing to work with. For now, she relieved herself, washed her hands and face, and tried to do something with her hair. Those Irish locks she’d inherited from her great-grandmother were as stubborn as all get-out. She did the best she could, then tidied her clothes.

She was ready. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was even paler than usual. She licked her lips and took a deep breath.

“What’re you doing?” Why didn’t she just walk out of here? There were too many people around for him to draw his weapon. He wouldn’t want that kind of attention.

Anticipation stirred in her chest. Once she’d explained what happened to the police, she could go home. Take care of the coffee shop. See the doctor. Get on with her life.

The police can’t protect us, Maggie. What if he was right? What if this crazy woman tried to use Maggie to lure Slade into some sort of trap? Or killed her?