Mildred Pierced

Cover Mildred Pierced
Genres: Fiction
So was my ephemeral happiness. Note the word “ephemeral.” It had been in one of Jeremy’s poems. I’d asked him what it meant.
    “Elusive, ghostlike, difficult to grasp either physically or conceptually, like fog,” he had said.
    I liked the word. I didn’t like Shelly not being in his room at the Biltmore. I liked the note he had left me on the desk even less.
    Toby, I’m all right. I called James Fenimore Sax, the founder of the Survivors. He assured me that the Survivors will protect me.
...He’s a noble man. Believe me. You know I’m a good judge of character. For my courage, he is going to promote me to Pathfinder and hide me till this is all taken care of. Don’t worry. I’ll call you.
    Shelly The only question for me was how, after Sax got the new will from Shelly—if he had written one—he was going to arrange for Sheldon’s accidental death.
    I asked the daytime desk clerk, a fixture behind the Biltmore desk since it opened in 1923, if Shelly had made any calls.
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