Her eyes glittering with amusement, Luci showed them into a room at the front of the house. The front parlor, she called it. A subtle hint at the more than just personality differences that separated Mickey from Luci Seymour and her aunts.
Delaney went straight for the table, but Mickey paused just inside the doorway and looked around. The parlor was a clean room, with long narrow windows that overlooked the street and a decor that indicated no single personality had directed its planning. Dim and cool, the furniture was a mixture of old and new, good and tacky, trendy and venerable. Not unlike the Seymour ladies.
Delaney tested each chair for soundness before taking one that still creaked a protest when he sat down. He waited a beat, but when nothing happened, pulled out a notebook and
