Boogie House: A Rolson McKane Mystery - Plot & Excerpts
She had the frail, spent look of someone searching at midnight for something she should be looking for in daylight. The part of her I had fallen in love with had been washed away, and all that remained was a husk of a woman transparently seeking out self-destruction. I made her a cup of coffee and had one myself while we sat on the couch and made quiet, desperate attempts at conversation, commenting on the house and the weather and how very little Lumber Junction has changed. When every other pleasantry was out of the way, I said, "Your dad has been asking about you." Her eyes flickered. They weren't so dead, after all. "He's gonna shit when he finds out I'm back." She smiled, but it was a sad affair. "He's been worried." She laughed without pleasure and made a ridiculous pfffting sound. "Oh, fuck him. He just don't want me out ruining his reputation. He thinks I need to be chained up, 'til I can get my act under control. To him I'm some, some goddamned sideshow freak." I swallowed.
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