The Disappearance of Margaret Chase
The man who sat across from me had money and a problem and nobody calls a detective when they have money and a problem unless the problem is something the police cannot fix. "I need you to find her," he said. His name was Harold Voss. He was sixty, wore a suit that cost more than my car, and had the kind of face that had been made handsome by people who had lied about it for forty years. "Who...
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