I was dying to ask him about his son in the speakeasy but didn’t dare. If Sam ever found out I’d blabbed, he’d have my hide. Our shiny new Chevrolet didn’t look quite as out of place in such an elegant setting as our old 1909 Model T Ford had, but a Pierce Arrow or a big Packard would have looked better. Or Harold’s Stutz Bearcat. On the other hand, the Chevrolet was a lot better than our old horse, Brownie, who used to haul me around. Brownie had gone to his reward the year before, and I kind of missed him, even though he’d always been a reluctant beast of burden. Since this was Southern California, even though it was technically still winter, vibrant irises and gladioli lined the semicircular drive in front of the porch. Mrs. Kincaid’s gardening staff made sure things bloomed all year long. That day there were even a few early roses showing their pretty blossoms here and there. Looking around and sniffing the sweet fragrances, I sighed happily, glad that my profession allowed me access to the homes of rich people since they were the only ones who could afford huge fancy gardens—and a full gardening staff.
What do You think about High Spirits [Spirits 03]?
![High Spirits [Spirits 03]](/i/cover.jpg)
