Chapter Thirteen
“Well, this is just as anticlimactic as all get-out.”
Kelso panted at me. I patted his head, and obligingly stopped skulking around the building across the street from the Hotel Mad Goats, and ignored Kelso while he had a little personal time on the grass verge. I was a bit disappointed, to be honest, that there were no men in black cars parked obviously on the street, or street vendors who just happened to lurk outside the hotel’s entrance. Instead, it was business as usual with the bright lights of all the nightclubs and restaurants making the town positively glow, while a dull throb of bass came from a bar a few doors down. People dressed in varying degrees of fashion wandered up and down the streets, laughing, calling to one another, and generally creating a party at
