Marcus didn’t appear on Saturday morning; however, Gale did, shortly before one that afternoon. He found it funny that Eddie and Jules were eating breakfast at that hour, wearing only jeans—which they admitted they’d hastily put on when he knocked.
“Using my great detective skills, I deduce that your night was much longer than mine after all of us left the club last night.” Gale grinned, snagging a piece of toast off Jules’ plate.
“Hey, now.” Jules shook his head, telling him there was a toaster and bread on the kitchen counter if he was hungry, which was met by Gale’s amused smile. “As for your deduction, Sherlock,” Jules said, “you’re right. We stayed up late discussing world politics and the state of the nation.”
Gale snorted. “If I believe that you have a bridge to sell me.”
“As a
