The microwave beeped for the fifteenth time, vainly trying to remind her that the dinner she reheated was getting cold. Anna tried her sister’s number yet again, but there was still no answer. She had hoped to talk to Jody before confronting Nick, but she’d run out of time. She would have to figure this out herself. Nick would be here any minute.Raffles rubbed against Anna’s leg and mewled for attention. Anna picked up the cat and scratched him behind the ears. She once had a case where a woman threw a cat out of a sixth-story window after the woman learned that her husband’s lover had given it to him as a gift. Not what you’d think of as a federal crime. Because Washington, D.C., was a federal city, federal prosecutors handled the street crimes that would have gone to the local District Attorney’s office anywhere else. Before Laprea’s death, Anna thought that the Washington U.S. Attorney’s Office held the best of both worlds: she could have the prestige of being a federal prosecutor while fighting violent crime.
