The man reentered the room from the kitchen after spending what seemed an inordinate amount of time in the back rooms of his house. He was drying his hands with a ragged dish towel. “Find anything to interest you?” Randolph J. asked slyly.
Byron regarded him for a moment before asking in his turn, “What do you think?”
The old man reared back in his stained and tattered lounger, “I won’t tolerate disrespect—I demand respect.”
Byron turned away and went to the front door. “Uh huh,” he answered disrespectfully.
Vanda sidled up to him and whispered fiercely in his ear, “Do you mind? We’ve got to spend all night here with this old boy, so do you think you could you give your feud with the elderly just a slight hiatus?”
Byron jiggled the door knob and double-checked the deadbolt without ans
