The foyer was dark, but there was a strange sound coming from the sunroom. Like the faint grind of a buzz saw or crunch of a wood chipper. “This feels like a horror movie and we’re about to get chopped up by a deranged serial killer,” Riley observed. Nick took her hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.” “What if it’s a room full of chickens?” “Then I’ll use you as a human shield.”
