She stared at the calendar on the wall. Someone had already turned the page to September, where a red circle marked the last Saturday of the month.Her body tensed as she heard the door open and close behind her.The young officer who’d hauled her in entered with light footsteps. He’d kept silent during the drive, but she had noticed his cautious glances. Once or twice he’d opened his mouth, clearly intending to speak, but had closed it again without saying a word. On their arrival at the low redbrick building bearing a sign for county administration and law enforcement, he’d ushered her down a corridor, and had left her waiting in an office with Sheriff Taylor stenciled over the glass door.“Are you cold?” the officer asked as he circled the desk to face her.Justine gave him a silent nod.He strode out again, and returned clutching a shabby raincoat. He offered it to her, averting his gaze from her flimsy underwear and torn silk stockings. Justine glowered at him, her face twisted in disgust at the filthy garment.
