Chapter 8
Kip awoke the following day to a sharp knocking on the door to his room at the guest house. Blearily he tried to find his phone to check the time, wincing when his neck and chest protested his moving.
“Hang on,” he called out as he managed to get to his feet, wrapping the sheet around him.
“Take your time,” Mitch called back. When Kip opened the door, Mitch told him, “Detective Ingles and the Feds are dealing with my prisoners at the moment.”
“Meaning they want to talk with me when they’re finished.”
“I’m afraid so. I’ll let them know you’ll be at my office in…half an hour?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
As soon as Mitch left, Kip headed to the bathroom only to find the door locked. It opened a moment later. John stood there, a towel wrapped around his waist.
“I’m finished. It’s all your
