“On it were pictures of the four suspects: Otis Sanders, the slayer, Anthony Barnes, the drake social worker, Brody Ross, the gargoyle, Killian Henderson, the strip-club owner, and Alastair. Beneath each names were a lot of scribbles, but I couldn’t read them. Flint’s handwriting left something to be desired. Maybe I should have come back with him the other afternoon and helped him write on the whiteboard. He strode across the room with two styrofoam cups. When he reached the desk, he set them b...oth down. “Sorry, the coffee they make here isn’t quite like the stuff you brought me the other day.” I picked up my cup, which was obviously mine since it contained cream. I took a small drink. “It’s fine. The stuff I got the other day was from a convenience store, nothing fancy.” He shrugged, picking up his cup of coffee. He was gazing at the whiteboard. “So, what do you think?” “I think your handwriting is unreadable,” I said. He took a drink of coffee. “Well, I don’t usually bother with this kind of thing.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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