“It was about a Ms. Weiss. Andrews called her one of your folk.”
“Mm. Hmm.” I dropped my backpack on a nearby chair and plopped down on the couch, ready to meet my punishment with as little resistance as possible. “Okay, I know—”
“I don’t think you do. You couldn’t.”
I was surprised at Bernadette’s tone. It wasn’t at all what I expected. She seemed almost…friendly.
“What do you mean I couldn’t? I couldn’t what?”
“Ms. Weiss has requested you accompany her tomorrow afternoon to the local farmer’s market. The one by the pier. It’s held every Saturday during summer.”
I wanted to tell her I felt a huge sense of relief. But didn’t dare. She’d ask me questions and then be furious I screwed with the woman’s privacy.
She held up a Post It note. “Here’s the facility’s number with Ms. Weiss’ extension.”
I started to speak but she cut me off.