The rough walls and dusty floors had not given up their secrets, if there were any. Firth sat down on a small, semi-circular platform near the painting of Saint Gregory. He’d grown tired of the search and had, once again,S become his grumpy self. It was a battle Sean was growing tired of fighting...
He’d been a friendly fellow, with narrow eyes and light blonde hair and beard. The man had asked if they wanted to come aboard their enormous touring raft but taking the mule trail was a faster way to get back to the car and given the events of the last 48 hours, speed was of the essence. When ...
