The Prescotts Thought My Uniform Was Decorative

scare me.”

“No,” I said. “But the cellar might.”

Behind him, Gayle’s face went white around the mouth.

There it was.

I drove behind Agent Cobb to the Prescott estate.

The house sat off Old Mill Road behind iron gates and two stone pillars with lanterns on top. The kind of place people slow down to look at, then pretend they didn’t. White brick. Long drive.continue reading …