“I can sympathize.”
She could. She’d been confined first to a wheelchair, then a walker, and finally a quad cane for a few miserable months after that accident last fall.
“I hope they can shed some light on the location of Cameron Snow. He was a wretched husband to Heather, and I’d like to have a little chat with him about his treatment of her.”
Oh, goody. We were going to have a confrontation. If I wasn’t holding my cane, I’d have rubbed my hands together. What the fuck; I managed it anyway.
Quinn gave me a look, then turned to Portia. “I’ll keep you informed.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. And please give Heather’s family my condolences.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “I think I’ll write them a letter.”
Of course she would. She was a classy lady who’d do things like that.
“Would you mind stopping by on Saturday before you leave for Philadelphia?”
“Certainly, Mother.”