After Nine-Year-Old Sadie Called Munich, Walter Hensley Drove Through the Snow
My phone rang on the hall table before I could get the new ring into my coat pocket.
The screen showed an unlisted mobile number, but I knew the area code right away.
I went into the kitchen and laid the phone flat on the laminate counter beside the sink before hitting the speaker button.
“Valerie,” Colleen said, her voice shaking over the static of a car speaker.
“I’m sitting in the parking lot behind the grocery store in Dublin.”
“I can hear the delivery trucks behind you, Colleen,” I said.
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