Trapped like a rat, Hannah O'Connell thought as the screen door slammed and all too familiar footsteps sounded briskly in her back entryway.
"Hannah?" her best friend, Josie Wilkes, called out. "Don't get up. It's just me."
Hannah clutched the handles of the wicker laundry basket as if it were full of drug money instead of mounds of damp things fresh from the washing machine. You'd think most people would consider hanging out wash pretty harmless. But she had a funny feeling Josie Wilkes wouldn't see it quite that way.
Hannah looked for someplace to ditch the evidence, but there was no retreat. Reckless, her...