Chapter 10
Jacksonville, FL
THEY RANG THE doorbell at the Foster-Martin residence at precisely seven o’clock. It was an interesting 1930s house situated on a corner lot in Avondale. They’d learned that George and Mike owned a vacant lot that extended behind both their house and the house next door. The vacant lot was surrounded by a chain-link fence that defined the outdoor domain of Thor, their Irish Setter.
The front door opened, and Mike said, “Come on in, guys, you’re the first to arrive, and you’re right on time.”
“I’ve never bought into that whole fashionably late business,” Chris said.
Mickey handed Mike a couple of bottles of wine; then they followed him across an enclosed porch and into the living room.
“Have a seat, guys,” Mike said. “George is in the kitchen. I’ll take jus
