DePalma scowled at her. Maybe if she solved this case there would be a little boyplaying in the half-finished snow fort on the Kirkwoods' front lawn. He arched a brow. She raised a hand and traced afingertip over the scar on his chin.
There was his law practice, his hunting andfishing, his wife Vicki. So he stood there with every muscle as rigid as the walls he had builtto protect himself. Shaking hard. His real name was not Olie, but the nickname stuck with him and he madeno effort to lose it.
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