Chapter 3
John snorted a breath that grew into a yawn wide enough to hurt his jaw. From behind his closed eyelids he could see light; he could hear the sounds of gossiping birds, swaying branches and leaves, and the drone of the pool pump. He frowned, opened his eyes, and stared at one of the two windows in the bedroom. How it had got itself open, he had no idea. Nor could John imagine how the towels, perched on the chair beside the bed, folded and fresh and thick, had managed to get where they were. He sat up in bed, trying to blink memory into functional, and peered around the guest room. His clothes from the previous day were draped over the same chair the towels sat in and for the life of him he couldn’t recall taking them off the first time he’d fallen asleep, let alone the second. J
