Chapter 10Visho
Traffic wasn’t bad, and in fifteen minutes, they were back at Visho’s house.
Nice’s bike was chained to a parking sign. Once it was gone, there’d be no indication that Nice had ever passed through his life, no evidence but a couple of photos.
“Do you want to come in for a nightcap?” he offered.
Nice chuckled. “A nightcap? That’s what my grandmother calls her bedtime sherry.”
Visho, who had chosen the old-fashioned word on purpose to make Nice laugh, rolled his eyes and pretended not to be pleased.
“I might have cooking sherry, but I don’t recommend drinking it. Cognac?”
Nice was silent for a long moment, as if the question deserved extensive consideration. “Okay, thanks,” he said finally.
They went inside, Visho waving Nice into the living room and continuing on to
