7
When the phone rang, Shawn was tempted not to answer. He was deep in the middle of a pleading that he was trying to compose, and knew that another distraction would make it impossible for him to regain his train of thought. On the other hand, it was his cell phone, and not many people actually called him on that number. He searched until he finally found the phone under a pile of papers on the couch.
“What the heck takes you so long?” His father sounded annoyed.
“Sorry. I couldn’t—” He left the sentence dangling, not wanting to admit that he couldn't find the telephone under the mess in his office.
“Listen. I'm at the factory. Bob Stuart just stopped by.”
“Your chess buddy?” Shawn's gaze wandered over to the bookcase. One of his books was missing. Why don't people tell me when the
