Chapter 7
It was shortly after ten Saturday morning when Myles and Amery finished breakfast, after having awakened when sunlight flooded their bedroom, taking advantage of it to make slow, gentle love—their usual start to their one day off together.
Myles was just putting the dishes in the dishwasher when the doorbell rang.
“Who the hell is that?” Amery grumbled as he went to answer. He returned to the kitchen with Detective Sands right behind him. “Fletch wants to talk to us,” he told Myles.
“Aren’t we the lucky ones,” Myles muttered, drying his hands before following them into the living room.
When they were seated, Fletch in the armchair, Myles and Amery on the sofa, Fletch came straight to the point of his visit. “Since the two of you seem to be interested in the Newells’ murder,”
