Skye squinted at the clock radio. It was six a.m. She’d been asleep for only three hours, having, as she predicted, tossed and turned for most of the night. Who could be calling her at this ungodly hour? Shoot! She should have let the machine pick up. What if her mother had decided to nag her long-distance? “Hi, sugar. Sorry to wake you, but I wanted to make sure to catch you at home.” Wally’s silky voice smoothed over her like expensive body lotion. “I got your messages too late to call you back yesterday. Is everything okay?” “I’m glad you called. I miss you.” Skye ignored Wally’s question. She’d tell him all about the murder and the rumors in a minute, but first she wanted to shake off her sleep-deprived fog and focus. “How’s your dad?” “He seems to be doing fine,” Wally answered. “In fact, he’s trying to talk the doctors into letting him out of the hospital.” “It’s wonderful that he’s feeling that much better. Does that mean you’re coming home soon?”
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