Then I asked her if she wanted to to the funeral, and my God, the look on her face. You'd think I'd asked her to drown the neighbor's cat." Admittedly, drowning the neighbor's cat didn't really clue me in as much as I would've liked. "So, she was angry?" He blinked back to me and stared. Like a long time.

Garrett must have sensed I was awake. "Hey Detective," he said to Uncle Bob, who was now trudging across the grating toward us. "I think we're losing her. I have no choice but to perform mouth-to-mouth." "Don't you dare," I said, my lids still in lockdown.

Cookie dropped her purse and tried to catch it midair. In the process, she knocked over a vase. When she lunged for the vase, she slipped on the tile and overturned an entire table. A lovely handblown piece of glass flew in my direction, and all I could think as I caught it was, Really? Again? We were going to have to practice muscle control.

Dude,” I said, leaning over the desk, “I’m about as psychic as a carrot.

I do not," I felt oddly appalled by her statement. "I'm an excellent liar. Ask my dentist. He swears I floss regularly.

Your existence gives me a headache. Go stand over there.

My prodding me didn't elicit a reaction. His unseeing eyes stared straight through me. Which was odd. He'd seemed so sane huddled in Cookie's trunk.