"A kid found her mother lying in the kitchen in a pool of blood."The afternoon crowd at the Perfidious Clam's was completely unexpected by Brenna. Instead of the myriad of bathing suits revealing as much as legally allowed, the people here wore work clothes; business suits with ties loosed or removed completely, jackets tossed over chairs or into the corner of booths, top buttons undone, sleeves rolled up. Still a young crowd, Brenna noted as the hostess led her to a small booth.
"So, your new friend has a book of rituals that may or may not work that he can read?"
"I don't like the idea of being in some place where I can be locked up when I'm talking about stuff that sounds crazy."
"Her soul didn't feel as substantial as I expected."
Brenna ordered a beer that she nursed while she waited for McCoy to arrive. To keep herself busy, she pulled a small sketchpad and a pencil from her purse and doodled. When the detective arrived, he found the young brunette with half a pint of beer and a small stack of drawings. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long," he said as he sat down.