“What’s that?” Suzie said.
Bernie shot me a strange sort of look, no idea why. I wasn’t the one barking; I was the one sitting quietly, keeping my nose clean. Just to be sure, I gave it a nice wet lick.
“I think I know the answer,” Bernie said. He picked up a flashlight, limped across the patio, and opened the gate.
Вы читаете A Fistful of Collars
