Private Eye: A Tiger’s Eye Mystery - Plot & Excerpts
Not unless you’ve heard a banshee let loose full throttle in your kitchen. I once read a newspaper article, back when Jeremiah was still alive and subscribing to twelve different papers in three different languages, that said scientists had done a study to determine the worst noises on the planet. I remember a metal knife scraping a glass bottle was in first place, as the very worst. I’ll never forget that, because my best friend Molly and I tried it out at the bar once. Sure enough, those scientists were absolutely, totally right. That hideous sound made us want to climb out of our skulls. Worst. Sound. Ever. Until now. A banshee wail was a thousand knives scraping a thousand bottles, played in counterpoint to jackhammers, fingernails on chalkboards, and the tortured shrieks of demons burning in hell. I didn’t want to burn in hell; I just wanted to escape it. Tears were running down my face from the pain and pressure on my eardrums, and I bent double, covering my ears, unable to move, even though I desperately wanted to.
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