She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite still. Women and men had always flocked to him, covetous of his knowledge, his riches, and if all else failed, his carnal expertise. “Why, among other things, did I put my knuckles in his neck—deliberately to hurt him?” She tried to sound the humorous note. “I know. " "Well, imagination beats me!" "It's something Ruth saw. Let your father—if he chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son. The detective backed out slowly and closed the door without sound. ” She stepped into the curtains as Martin stared daggers.
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