Cecil said he had something to show me.
I asked him what, and he said it would wait, but that it would interest me. Cecil's the cop I told you about, the one that's following these murders. I thought it might have to do with them.
OK, I said. When?
Swing by tonight, after I get off patrol. Don't bring the dog. You'll have to come in, and my wife doesn't want dog hairs in the house.
She's a poodle. Doesn't shed.
Doesn't matter, he said. She'd kill me if she found out I let a dog in the house.
Fine. No dog. What's she got against a nice dog like mine?
She just doesn't like dogs. She doesn't like paintings on black velvet either. Or dried flowers. She doesn't like mayonnaise. She's got her own tastes.
No comments:
Post a Comment