TWENTY-SEVEN
“Thank you for coming,” Lyla said and the neighbor whose hand she was shaking began to guide her toward the house like they wanted to be walked out through the building.
Trick had been impressed by his wife’s fortitude loads of times, but just when he thought she couldn’t do any more, she surpassed herself.
Far as he could tell, the cookout had been a good idea. It seemed to be a success and it had turned into an impromptu celebration of the life of the man he wished he’d had time to get to know better.
Standing at the edge of the yard, Trick scanned those who were still seated around the tables and made sure no one looked to need anything. The kid at the end of the table closest to him noticed him looking and averted his eyes.
Hmm, interesting.
The kid was Lyla’s cousin
