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Chapter 8
8 “What do you mean, dead? Murdered dead, or run over by a train dead?” I asked, tactful as always. “We haven’t decided yet. Manner of death, I mean. But there was no train involved. Let me talk to your sister.” “Why?” Lowry let out an exasperated breath. “Are you trying to piss me off?” “Sorry—I guess it just comes naturally. Or maybe it’s because we’re all stretched thin after last night. My sister already went to bed. Listen, she told you she’s never met the guy, and you saw how little she knew about the lawsuit. What if I bring her in tomorrow—say ten a.m.? Then she can get some rest and hopefully you can, too. And, if the stars line up, we’ll have heard from Graeme by then and can let you know when to expect him.” He sighed and muttered, “God save me from helpful witnesses.” I
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