The Dead Girl’s Stilettos: A Bexley Squires Mystery

“Please don’t tell me you’re the reporter who wanted to discuss Dean Halliwell.”

With a stiff laugh, she shoved her hands into the back pockets of her wrinkled dress slacks. “Would you rather I told you a corny joke instead?”

He rolled his eyes, thick lips still bent with a smirk. “You haven’t lost your wit, but I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time by coming here. There’s not much I can tell you beyond what we already released to the press.”

“I’m not asking for a backstage pass. I wanted to hear the facts straight from the source…maybe even get the contact info for the witnesses who found the body.”