Chapter 7: Miller’s Reality
Miller appeared in the archway between the kitchen and dining room. He held a glass of water in one hand and attempted a grin. A paper Starbucks cup sat on the counter to his right.
“What the f**k?” I dropped the Colt at my side. “What are you doing here, Miller? You just scared the Jesus out of me.”
“You should lock your door,” he said. “That’s really unsafe. Any Tom, d**k, or Harry could walk right in and do whatever he wanted to you. You’re a statistic waiting to happen for the media in this town.”
I placed the Colt on the nearby walnut dining table and attempted to calm down. Then I took a deep breath, shook my head, and told him, “You can’t just barge in here like this…”
“I didn’t barge. I was as quiet as a mouse. You barely heard me.”
I shook my head
