Beatrice was hungry. She stood on her hind legs with her front paws on the kitchen counter while she checked out the evening"s bill of fare. When Sam didn"t move fast enough to suit her needs, Beatrice got down and dragged her bowl a bit closer to the counter.
Sam dropped the can opener into the sink. His hands felt thick and awkward, which he shrugged off as a byproduct of the insomnia he was still experiencing.
He still hadn"t been able to locate Charlie Biscay, and he had a bad feeling in his gut. On the way home from the mortuary, he had stopped by the floral shop Charlie owned and was surprised to discover that a guy named Craig now managing the business. When Sam asked Craig to relay a message, he said Charlie was no longer around.
“Doesn"t Charlie Biscay still own the shop?” Sam
