"Christmas? How the hell?" I didn't remember mentioning that, or joking about it with her openly. Coincidental perhaps, or just so in tune with her in...ways I hadn't yet been able to comprehend. Either way, it was almost spooky ... and I again entertained ludicrous thoughts regarding her existence.It was however the witching hour though ... or almost seven-thirty anyway, regardless, as I headed down the hall towards the stairs, singing a song that for some reason had gotten stuck inside my. On the way to my office, I was trying to decide what to do about Harley. Judge Wilmer charged him very specifically with investigating the charges against Aunt Margie, and I didn’t doubt for a minute that, once old Harley picked up the scent of anything interesting, he’d be as single-minded as a bloodhound until he got what he was after. I didn’t want to just come right out and tell him what I knew about Margie/Dagmar, but I knew that if I withheld any information and he later uncovered it, he. More

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