Chapter Fourteen A sandcastle of symmetrical precision, twenty-two plastic containers sat neatly stacked on a granite counter alongside a double sink. Each one had been opened and immersed in hot water so contents could be easily removed and keenly inspected, and then tossed into a large silver garbage pail located in a broom closet the size of the average person’s bedroom.
“Doesn’t my battered baby wook cute pwaying with her widdle block toys?” Kent sounded idiotic rather than playful as he dragged a gas-lift bar stool behind.
“You’re so not funny.” I wasn’t pleased at having the [frustrating] search interrupted.
“Did you find anything of note?” He straddled the bisque-colored chair that looked like it could cause damage to personal private parts if owner of said parts wasn’t carefu
