She snuggled even deeper into the covers. It was barely daylight outside, and Morgan had left an hour before. Neither one of them had gotten much sleep. That wasn’t a bad thing. She wondered if her toes were still curled. They should be. She sighed and closed her eyes. It took a bit of concentration, but she managed to banish the memory of the murder at The Peabody to the nether regions of her brain. She replaced it with more pleasant recent events. The next thing she knew someone started banging on her door. It took a few seconds to get her eyes open. She debated getting up and answering the door or staying in bed where she was all comfy and sleepy. About the same time Sam jumped up on the bed and got in her face, the knocking changed to a pounding. The cat arched his back, and fur stuck straight up so that he looked like he’d stepped on an electrical cord. Then he hissed and let out a screech. Harley sighed. No point in trying to ignore the steady hammering on the door.
