A tragic complication.

A husband’s public grief.

A funeral.

The theft finished at leisure.

She had put away enough clever men to know that the cleverest crimes are the ones that never look like crimes at all, and she lay there in the dark understanding that she was seconds away from becoming exactly that kind of case — the perfect one, the one no one ever solves — and that the only thing standing between her and that silence was whether a small boy she loved more than her own life had understood, and remembered, and come back.

Chapter 14 — If You Touch That Tube