Chapter 14
Zavier Frost’s home was a large, Tudor-style house, set well back from the road in what appeared to be a rather upscale neighborhood. Mars pulled up the long driveway, Friday afternoon, parking in front of a three-car garage.
“I think I’ve lost all feeling in my ass,” Dylan muttered when he got off the bike.
“After spending half the day on the bike, I’m not surprised. We made good time though. It’s only six-thirty. Come on, let’s meet our new handler.”
They walked around to the front of the house and rang the bell. After what seemed like an inordinate amount of time—enough that Dylan began to wonder if they were at the wrong house—the door opened. A man of average height, with dark hair, deep-set eyes, and a well-lined face, stood there. He studied them solemnly before sayin
