Lynn narrowed his eyes at the departed Bobby. "Yes, I can." Bobby was a f*****g basilisk. As if they had any f*****g room to talk about suspicious deaths in the family, please. What a worm. To hell with him. "How did Wynn look?"
"Same as ever," Leslie said sourly. " Clearly pleased with himself, the f*****g bastard." His hand shook faintly as he lifted his drink and took a long swallow. Lynn signaled for a second one. "I'm sorry to ruin-"
"Oh, shut up," Lynn said. "You don't have to apologize for not wanting to f*****g die, you goddamn moron. Anyway, it's a dinner. Not a big deal."
Leslie looked up, eyes dark and sad. "Mom told me."
Lynn sighed. "That woman is an interfering menace."
"Who are you telling?" Leslie retorted. "So how are you?"
"I really wish I could drink. It'll be fine
