Deal With This
Chapter One
Agent Alan Hyatt stopped in front of the door to his temporary
new home and blinked.
It was purple-bright neon purple.
And the knocker (did people even use those anymore?) on
the heavy, old-fashioned door was a huge gothic monstrosity.
A lion's head easily six inches wide and eight inches high
with a big brass loop hanging from its snarling fangs. The
house itself was a soft buttery yellow, the scrolling Victorian
trim done in white, which in some alternate reality was probably
considered a nice contrast to glaring purple.
The flower beds were filled with a plethora of wildflowers
that added charm, if not sophistication, to the property. It
wasn't a showplace, but the large Victorian home was in good
repair and it was obvious the owner had a lively, artistic bent.
You could tell a lot about a person from the way they presented
their home.
He, of course, knew even more, having read a file on said
owner before embarking on this case.
Jillian Sinclair was an actor. From what appeared to be a
typical middle-class family, she'd left home at the age of seventeen
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