I turned on my heel and walked toward the glass doors that led to the parking structure.

The air in the concrete garage was cold enough that my breath came out in pale white clouds.

Richard Caldwell stood by the driver’s side of his silver sedan, a leather document portfolio tucked under his arm.

He turned as my heels clicked on the oil-stained concrete, his lawyer’s eyes narrowing behind rimless glasses.

“Grace,” Richard said, stepping around his bumper to block my way to the utility elevator.

“Hello, Richard,” I said.