Chapter 22: The Pony Boy“Mr. Bass, did you sleep on the sofa all night?” Mason the Mormon asked, preparing himself breakfast the next morning: a bowl, a spoon, Raisin Bran cereal, and milk.
I sat at the kitchen table, having just filed a statement with Buck’s supervisor, Angela Bart, against Fell Grind and his impulsive and disturbing antics from the evening before. She wanted me to drop a written statement off at the police department as soon as I could. I didn’t answer the kid. Instead, I asked, “Did you just get in, Mason?”
He nodded.
“Who were you with?”
“The blond you met at The Rift.”
“Kensington?”
He nodded again. “How did you remember his name?”
“Luck. That’s all.”
“Actually, he goes by Ken. I’ve told you that, right?”
“Maybe you did. I can’t remember.” I asked Mason more
