fears to sound respectable to the authorities. Evelyn, completely unaware of the invisible
web being woven around her peaceful morning, took another sip of her coffee.
Evelyn was looking at the Japanese maple near the walkway, wondering whether it
needed trimming, when the first patrol car turned hard onto Briar Glen Lane. Then a
second. There were no sirens, but the flashing lights were unmistakable. Red and blue
reflected off the immaculate windows of every expensive house on the block.
She lowered her mug. The cars stopped at the curb, angled aggressively as if they had
arrived at an active crime scene.
Two officers stepped out. The first was Sergeant Frank Harlan, heavyset, in his mid-
forties, with a shaved head. His hand was already resting near his weapon with the
dangerous confidence of a man who had made up his mind before his boots touched the
pavement. The second was Officer Miles Reed, younger, thinner, and nervous in the way