We’d just returned from the range when Mark Vincent called, requesting to see me; I agreed.
“Not a good idea, Portia!” Gregor insisted.
“I think it is. I doubt he knows that Quinton is missing, but he might have some idea of what’s going on in Europe.”
“Okay, but I’m going to frisk that son of a—” He coughed and blushed. “Sorry.”
“Gregor, this is hardly the time to worry about your language.”
“Right. I’m still going to frisk him to within an inch of his life.”
“Very well.” Whatever made him happy. I was aware of the pistol under his arm, and that he would have no qualms using it. Of course, if he did, I’d have to make sure the body wasn’t discovered. Shadow Brook was a decent-sized property. We could bury it in the Christmas tree plantation; it would never be found.
I went upstairs,
