If Beau had given the matter much thought, he probably would have assumed the quality of housekeeping in Vin’s apartment had gone downhill rapidly since he’d left. He had been accustomed to doing most of the cleaning, all of the cooking. He stopped dead inside the doorway; the place wasn’t spotless, no, but the coffee table wasn’t covered with dishes, there weren’t six pairs of dirty socks decorating the carpet. Even the carpet was relatively clean, as if it had been recently vacuumed. A rainbow of highlighters lay scattered across the sofa, on, around, and under a huge sketchpad.
Curious, Beau picked up the sketch pad. Vin drew, or at least, decorated the margins of his textbooks with elaborate cartoons. Had he moved on to something a little less juvenile?
The first page indicated a res
