A town called Foster. " He shook his head. “I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. I waited until he was asleep and then I tied him up with some duct tape and some old rope he had in the shed. Unless he has dealings with the devil, he could never have done this alone. In the first place there were not so many suitable advertisements as she had expected.
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