After grabbing a bottle of Manhattan Special and some saltines and Vienna sausages from Limping Mike’s for lunch, Drayco parked in front of the Opera House to see if it was still standing. For better or worse, it was. The century-old building had survived hurricanes, neglect, and one murder, while the mortals who built it and lived in its shadow had come and gone. With an apology to the old girl and a promise to return soon, he headed back down the road.
Beth Sterling’s house wasn’t nearly as sturdy as the Opera House. But a quick call to the sheriff had him meeting Drayco there at mid-afternoon, the same time of day as his first visit. If anything, today was hotter, hazier, and more humid. The triple-H sort of hell. So where the hell were those iconic sea breezes?
hellAs they stepped in
