Hugh could sense it the minute he got out of the Jeep behind the house. But in the dusk everything looked the same. And yet… He shrugged and gave his head a quick shake. Sometimes he felt a brief disorientation on solid ground after a flight. Maybe that was it. That and having had less than three hours’ sleep last night, thanks to Ms. Sydney St. John. Well, tonight he’d make up for it. Tonight, thanks to Ms. St. John’s cooperation, he would spend the evening eating his grouper and peas and rice in peace—with no Lisa hovering. And then he would watch a film or read a book, maybe go for a swim, take Belle for a long walk, then fall into bed—after he’d changed the sheets so no lingering scents distracted him—and have a dreamless peaceful sleep. He snatched his dinner off the car’s front seat, then snapping his fingers for Belle, he headed around the side of the house. His bicycle wasn’t there. Of course, it wasn’t as if it had a definite parking space against the porch railing.
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