And indeed, Kingston looked irritated when he arrived. He was clutching a half-eaten sandwich. He was a tall man with a goatee who looked like he might have played football when he was in high school.
“Wanna talk to you, Kingston,” said Georgia briskly.
“Yeah? What’s this about?” Kingston looked baffled at the combination of the tattooed Georgia and the octogenarian at his door.
Myrtle said, “I’m representing the Bradley Bugle this morning, Kingston. I’m Myrtle Clover.”
Bradley Bugle“Oh, I know who you are,” said Kingston with a short laugh. “I counted my lucky stars when I didn’t get you for English class. I’d have never graduated from high school.”
Georgia said impatiently, “Myrtle’s writing an article about Victor’s death yesterday. Can we come inside?”
Kingston stepped back so
