"Really?" I asked. "My demeanor doesn't change according to what time of day it is."
"Well, mine does," she said as she pushed by me to head for the kitchen. I was hoping after a cup of coffee she'd be in more of a talkative mood. Milton Dunn's life and freedom was on the line, and even though I couldn't stand him, I wasn't going to let him get railroaded if he was innocent.
I went back to the bedroom, got dressed and then joined her in the kitchen.
The smell of the brewing coffee seemed to lighten her mood...