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Chapter 4 Scotty stood in the front hall of Preston’s house and glanced around. He was immediately struck by the hominess. Mail had been tossed on a nearby table. Preston threw his suit coat on a bar stool. He’d not been in this house. Six years ago Preston had lived in another home with his now ex-wife. Marilyn had decorated that one. It was the picture of clean grace and sterile beauty. The few times Scotty had been there he’d felt out of place and uncomfortable. Of course, Marilyn had hated his guts. There was that. And she certainly never pretended otherwise. Scotty figured she just didn’t like homosexuals. Whatever the reason, he made sure his visits to their shared home had been rare. “Come on in,” Preston said, looking back over his shoulder at him. “No need to stand in the hall