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Cold Case at Camden Crossing

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2018
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When he was sober? Tawny-Lynn couldn’t imagine.

But she relaxed at the woman’s friendly smile.

“What’ll you two have?”

“The breakfast special for me.” Chaz grinned at Tawny-Lynn. “They make the best biscuits in town.”

She noted the chalkboard. The special was three eggs, sausage and pancakes. If she ate all that, she’d be too full to get any work done.

“I’ll take the country breakfast. Scrambled eggs with cheese.”

“Sausage or bacon?”

“Sausage.”

Hilda smiled again, then called their order in and headed to the next table.

“Did you sleep any last night?” Chaz asked.

She fiddled with her napkin. “A little. But I dreamed about the crash.”

He was watching her, his interest piqued, but he didn’t push. “You dream about it a lot?”

She nodded. “All the time.”

“What happens in the dream?”

She tucked a strand of hair that had escaped the ponytail holder behind her ear. “I’m at the ball game. We win, everyone’s excited, cheering. Then we run to the bus. Coach says we’ll meet for pizza.” Goose bumps skated up her arms.

“Then?”

“Then we’re in the bus and everyone’s talking and then the bus jerks...like someone hit us, and the driver loses control.”

Chaz sucked in a sharp breath. “That fits with our theory.”

“You believe someone caused the accident?”

“Yes, but we don’t know if it was an accident, or if someone intentionally slammed into the bus.”


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