Melissa

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Shortly after the arrival of the FBI, there had been a round of questionings and arrests. Arthur Hill’s phone records, the sheriff’s office emails, GPS of any phones that had been pinged as attending Kettle Springs Improvement Society meetings: no accomplice was able to hide. Not that there were many living accomplices. Ironic, Quinn thought, that it was the phones they hated so much that had gotten them caught.
Clown in a Cornfield
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