Leslie Parrish

“Would you believe I was in the neighborhood?”“No."“Well, how about that I needed to see you.”“Why? Did one of my neighbors call and say my cat’s been stalking their bunny?”One corner of his mouth went up. “You know, that sounds like a euphemism. A kind of salacious one”“Ooh, big words for Mr. Average Joe street cop,” she said, knowing she sounded bitchy but unable to help it. “Can you take out the angry eyes, Mrs. Potato Head, and just let me talk to you?”

“She closed her eyes briefly, feeling sick. Olivia had experienced strangulation before. Having to look directly into the face of the person who was killing you made the experience beyond awful. But there were worse things than that. Staring into the void of unresolved memory, living an eternal mystery, waking up night after night seeing the face of someone you desperately wanted to save but having not the slightest clue how to do it—all that was worse. If going through with this experience gave her the answers she needed, if it gave her peace, it would be well worth one-hundred-and-thirty seconds of fear and pain.”