A Randall Thanksgiving (2006)
“Griff called as he walked toward them up the street.
Harry wondered if his guilty conscience had sent out a signal to Melissa’s dad. A kind of beacon that illuminated a couple headed to a romantic rendezvous.
“I—I was going to show Melissa my apartment,” he said. “She wanted to see it after touring Dale’s new place.” He figured that was as good a reason as any.
“Oh, good, I’ll come, too. I haven’t seen it since the repairs.”
Harry met Melissa’s tortured glance and looked away. At least he knew it wasn’t her happiest moment, either.
“Sure. Though, actually, it’s not that interesting. But at least it’s fairly clean today, because Dale slept here last night.”
Slowly, so Griff wouldn’t notice, he removed his hand from Melissa’s and led the way up the stairs. He unlocked the door and then stood back until both Randalls had entered.
Griff looked around, assessing the place with a keen eye. “They fixed it up real nice,” he said. “No bullet holes in sight.”
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