Chapter 7
The crunch of tires coming up driveway heralded Adam's return on late Saturday night. A curious mix of anticipation and dread ate at the pit of my stomach. Thunderlane ran to the door, weaving back and forth until I let him out. I waited until Adam backed up his Mercedes next to his mother's ancient ute, and then opened the door so Pippa could run out to greet him.
"Daddy!"
I fanned myself to cool the sweat which made it feel like I was about to melt into a puddle of goo. In retrospect, it was too darned hot to cook the pork roast I'd picked up at the IGA, but after the strained telephone conversations of the last two nights, it was time to make a peace offering. It wasn't Adam's fault my ex-professor had ordered the poor man to move closer to the Black Widow's lair? Was it?
