“Carl was right. There were lots of guns in this world. Just because Dorothy had been shot, it didn’t mean she was shot with Daddy’s gun. “Oh, yes?” a little voice way back in her mind said. “Then why is it missing?” Opening the cabinet door, she peered at the shelf, pulled down a box of cornflakes, and shook some in a bowl. From the refrigerator she took a carton of milk, sloshed a dollop over the cereal, and picked up her spoon. Taylor came into the kitchen and, with little more than a glance ...at her, got a glass and filled it with orange juice. “I heard you up early.” “Trouble sleeping.” He looked at the orange juice, tipped the glass, and sipped. “I’m having the same problem.” She believed him. Even freshly shaved, neatly brushed, and properly dressed in conservative suit, white shirt, and subdued tie, he looked like he hadn’t had any sleep. His face was sallow, with deep lines from nose to mouth and a haunted, worried look in his eyes. She tried to see him objectively.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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