CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“Dan Tanna wants ya,” Rey said with a cheeky smile and, leaning into the mudroom doorframe, took a sip of Perrier from a tall tumbler. She’d changed into a short lacy nightie, displaying lanky legs, ones gumshoes—private eyes of yesteryear—might have called “great gams”.
I grabbed my cell from the kitchen counter, glancing at the clock and absently noting it was four minutes after midnight. Linda had already gone to bed, as had Adwin and Jimmy C. Sach was seated at the kitchen table, eating a Granny Smith apple as he reviewed tomorrow’s must-do list.
“Whatzup?” I asked.
“Missing anyone?”
“You? Again?” I pressed “Speaker” and placed the phone on the table.
Sach looked up with those squirrel-tail bushy eyebrows raised high.
“Keeping the game interesting, and you all
