FourA Reunion in Chicago
Meeting with old man Brewer was akin to visiting the past. The former sergeant major greeted Simms like a long-lost son, bear-hugging him on the porch of his house in downtown Chicago.
“My God in heaven, it's good to see you,” said Brewer, studying the lean detective with affection. “You're looking so fit and healthy.”
Simms smiled, somewhat self-consciously, and had to use considerable force to pry himself free of the man's grip. “You too, Sam,” Simms lied, for the old man's features were drawn, etched with melancholy and perhaps something more. “Are you keeping well?”
“Aches and pains, more each day, but what the hell? I'm seventy-four, so I can't complain.” He stepped aside and waved Simms into the narrow hallway.
The house smelled of lavender and primrose,
