"Cook, Glen - Garrett Files 11 - Whispering Nickel Idols" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cook Glen)

The kid squeaked and backed toward the front door, bent over so
he sort of probed his way with his behind.

“And you would be?” I asked, more interested than I could explain
just by my finding a stranger marooned in my hallway.

The kitchen door squeaked. “Mr. Garrett. You’re up early.”

“Yeah. It ain’t even the crack of noon. Clue me in, here.”

The party exiting the kitchen was Dean, my live-in cook and
housekeeper. He’s old enough to be my grandfather but acts like
my mom. His turning up explained the kid. He was lugging
something wrapped in dirty old paper.

Dean collects strays, be they kittens or kids.

“What?”

“You’re up to something. Else you wouldn’t call me Mr. Garrett.”

Dean’s wrinkles pruned into a sour face. “The sun always sets
when there is fear of saber-tooth tigers.”

That means you see what you’re afraid to see. My mother said it a
lot, in her time.

“This house is safe from tigers.” I stared at the boy, intrigued. He
had a million freckles. His eyes sparkled with challenge and
curiosity and fright. “Who’s this? How come he’s poking around my
house?” I kept on staring. There was something appealing about
that kid.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I expected psychic mirth from my deceased associate. I got
nothing.

Old Bones was sound asleep.

There’s good and bad in everything.

I focused on Dean. I had a scowl on. A ferocious one, not my “just
for business” scowl. “I’m not whistling now, Dean. Talk to me.”
Grease stained the packet the old boy carried. Once again, at
second hand, I would be feeding a stray.

“Uh… this is Penny Dreadful. He runs messages for people.”