Twelfth Night (A Wendover House Mystery Book 2) - Plot & Excerpts
Mary whispered. I was glad she stopped there. Our wine-soaked brains couldn’t absorb any more. I’m sure Brandy struck everyone as being an airheaded material girl rather than someone more imaginative and spiritual. But whatever she had seen that night had shaken her to her bones and filled her with dread that could reach across decades and still touch her. She had come to the edge of the rational world and crossed over someplace no one else ever wanted to go. In fact, I think everyone—excepting perhaps Ben—was hoping to forget the story as soon as possible. “I have a story too. A real one and I never talk about it either,” Jack said quickly, surprising me. Supernatural stuff had never been his bag. He went on, perhaps hurrying to get the story out before he changed his mind. “This was not too long after I moved to Chicago. A buddy of mine was getting married and we took him out the weekend before the wedding for a barhop, a sort of goodbye to single life, a last debauch thing.”
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