I heard talk from Singe’s office. John Stretch was using his deadly calm, lethally reasonable voice. I thought he would use that voice to explain why he was going to kill you. He was the only one doing any talking. I raised an eyebrow to Penny. She shrugged, raised one hand with all five digits up, said, “The others are over there,” indicating the Dead Man’s room, then stepped around me to wait for Playmate and Hagekagome. She knew they were coming, though I hadn’t said anything and they were still out of the Dead Man’s range. Old Bones was peeking again. Dean had not brought out any refreshments. Maybe our guests were less than totally welcome. Perhaps he was being encouraged to restrain his natural hospitality. I could endorse that attitude wholeheartedly, and about time, too! You are dithering. And not even recognizing it.
What do You think about Wicked Bronze Ambition: A Garrett, P.I., Novel?
