Sperry's sour butler was lying on the floor of the foyer with a hole in his gut and blood oozing out. I can't say I didn't have that thought myself but I wouldn't have actually done it.
I heard a voice yelling in the drawing room. A female voice.
I eased up to the drawing room and looked in.
Lillian Wells was standing there with a .45 pointed right at Sperry, who looked like a kitten in a dog pound.
"You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you, William?" she said.
"Lily, can't we just...," Sperry started to say...
Neville Hunt over 2 years ago
‘Kitten in a dog pound’! Love it!
Christopher over 2 years ago
Thanks.