It was bad enough that my fellow moms were about to see the worn tracks in my carpet, the nicked paint on the walls, and the rest of what passed for decor in my house. Adding in the hair would probably tip things into “Poor Molly” gossip extravaganza. But a hat didn’t go with my “good” sweats — a...
I’d wanted my life to change, but in no way had I wanted that change to include coming near a serial killer. That, I knew, was a bad idea. I just had to figure out how to convince James Connery, and Deb, that it was. Everyone stopped and stared at me when I walked into the police headquarters. I ...