Chapter EightThe address Fraser had given me was that of a disused caretaker's apartment above a working bank in Dulwich Village, a wealthy suburb in South London. Job was leaning against his car directly in front of the side door that led up to the flat as we drew up.
“I guess my cottage pie is out the window, now?” he asked as Megan got out of the car.
“No! Not if there's a cooker upstairs. They're all very well, these foreign chefs and what have you, but I like to keep my hand in at cooking when I can. Nothing fancy, mind you. Good old fashioned comfort food is my speciality. I've brought some pots and pans and all the ingredients with me,” she replied, smiling at him in a maternal way.
“So, you're the man Terry keeps secret. I'm Melissa Iverson and I think it's me that's causing all
