Chapter Twenty-TwoPrying open one heavy eye, I found myself draped over a sofa armrest. A recently purchased coffee-table clock advised it was 9:35 p.m. Slumped on the opposite side, Cash was hugging Piggaletto.
I choked back laughter. The cute little porker had a mushroom slice on his snout while Cash slept like a contented little boy clasping a stuffed toy. Not normally a snorer, he was one now: purring softly, like a kitten.
Upon arrival at six-thirty, given the unrelenting heat and humidity, he'd discarded shoes and socks, and changed into splatter-print board shorts. I'd donned cut-offs. Never keen on A/C, I kept it on low, if on at all.
An extra-large pizza carton was on the floor, so was what was left of the pizza. Cash and I had eaten two slices each, but it appeared that one of
