“No way to avoid it. I was out of dog biscuits again and, trust me, life wasn’t worth living without them. Plus Phillip had called twice (Los Angeles and Denver). Even Tolstoy didn’t care for the increasingly hostile tone of his messages, which was another reason to get out of the house, but the real problem was that I couldn’t take my mind off this scattering thing. How the hell was I ever going to reclaim my home with that miserable urn squatting on the mantelpiece? On the bright side, the mic...roscopic cheque I found in my mailbox meant a little of the green stuff to spread around. It was raining too hard to walk. The Skylark responded with a click of the key in the ignition, the engine turned over and went back to bed. The good news was that at least I’d paid my Canadian Automobile Association premium, and it still had a month to run. For once, it was a slow day for Remorquage Bye-Bye. Tolstoy and I dashed through the downpour as the tow-truck pulled up. “Can you take it to Marc-André Paradis’ garage?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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