“Yeah. Mike was draped over the laminate kitchen counter, on the phone as usual. This was irregular. His eyes flashed as he turned towards her. ’ Her gaze followed the butler, who was moving towards the door. Come in! Come in, do. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. As soon as he was gone, the two women divested themselves of their hoods and cloaks, and threw them, as if inadvertently, into the farthest part of the angle in the wall. \"Drives a red Jeep?\" \"Uh-huh.
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