9
Tangwystl, Come!
I’d stewed all the way home about the whole Gladys-could-be-the-murderer omission.
Alex could be infuriating sometimes. Just because he’d ruled out the information was no reason not to share it with me. We could talk about it. Maybe decide together that it was useless rubbish. Or that our client was an evil mastermind and completely brilliant at deception.
At least Wembley was upfront and honest with me.
I unlocked the front door with my key. Oh, right, he hadn’t been. Einarr. Who was this Einarr guy? Army of one, undead warrior—either way, it was enough to blow my mind.
And yet I’d forgotten about it until I walked in the house. Because my Wembley was squishy around the middle and didn’t like swords. He used a gun because swords were difficult and a lot of work—hi
