HE WALKED STRANGERS THROUGH MY LAKE HOUSE LIKE HE OWNED IT

the smile that got him into a lot of rooms he had no business being in, including my daughter’s life.

“Walt,” he said. “What’s all this?”

I didn’t answer him. I tapped the first poster.

“That’s you on Thursday. 2:41 p.m. Living room.”

Tap.

“That’s you at 2:47. Pointing at my fireplace.”

Tap.

“That’s the gentleman with the clipboard. I’d guess inspector. Maybe continue reading …