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be holding. Mrs. Alvarez had somehow appeared with coffee. Mr. Bell stood near the soda machine pretending he had come in to ask about tire pressure.
Small towns did not need invitations to justice. They smelled it coming.
Victoria looked at her father first, then Ryder.
Her face flushed.
“Mr. Callaway.”
Ryder waited.
Yesterday, she had owned the room by continue reading …
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