Chapter 8The main floor of the B&B was quiet; a lone patron sat in the dining room to the left of the lobby reading the paper and drinking coffee. The sitting room on the right, with its antique furniture and large fireplace, was empty. Phil and I headed that way, and took up residence in the wingback chairs that filled a large bay window. The proprietor wandered in and asked if we'd care for something to drink. She offered coffee or tea, or if we wanted something stronger, beer, wine, or whiskey. I felt like I needed the whiskey, but it seemed a bit early in the day for that, so I opted for a beer; so did Phil.
We stared out the window in silence, watching the rain drizzle and drip from the trees and eaves until Joan, the B&B proprietor, returned with our beers.
Finally Phil spoke. “So,
