Chapter 13After I’d showered and dressed, Badger came back upstairs with a mug of black coffee and a giant, too-perfect-to-be-homemade blueberry muffin. We chatted while I ate, and then we promptly fell asleep, waking again around eleven thirty.
His apartment was different in the daylight, all the eeriness gone. It looked like what it was, a generous attic full of outdated but tasteful furnishings, worn but not neglected. It was surely incidental, as much to his taste as a belfry is to a bat’s. But it was his home, and here I was inside it.
I sat up, finger-combing the slept-on mess of my formerly damp hair. I felt him watching me and found his sinister eyes sleepy, face placid.
“How’s your hand?” he asked, tapping my cast.
“Feels all right. I have an appointment tomorrow, for an X-ray
