The Handkerchief on the Bus
“We’ve spent twenty years burying this.
The family can’t survive another scandal.
It will ruin us.” A fist came down on the desk.
“Jennifer is the key,” Dax said.
“And the boy is the last piece we need to make this whole problem disappear.” I pressed a hand over my mouth and backed away on unsteady legs.
The man on the bus had not been a creep chasing a thrill.
He had been trying to steer us clear of something with teeth.