Chapter Twenty-One
Rafferty was surprised to find he’d nodded off. He awoke bleary-eyed, and before he was properly awake, he glanced at Llewellyn and asked, ‘Where are we?’
‘Thirty minutes from Elmhurst,’ Llewellyn replied.
Rafferty pulled a face and sat up straight. ‘Blimey. Thought you’d be no more than the third roundabout in. What happened? Somebody put a bomb up your arse?’
‘On the contrary. The drive back has been uneventful, and unexpectedly peaceful.’
Rafferty snorted. Llewellyn’s roundabout – roundabout! – way of saying he’d only achieved this much-to-be-desired objective by him being out for the count and unable to stick his oar in. ‘Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I’m awake now. And much as I hate to piss on your parade, we need to discuss how we’re going to tackle Carl
