“That’s the only solution. I have to beat him with a marble duck.” “Too soon,” Heath groaned from the back seat of my car. He was squashed in there like a sardine but had insisted I take the passenger seat since Royce had begged to drive again. I turned in my seat to flash him a grin. “Sorry. Okay, then I’ll stuff sixty-seven tiny ducks down his throat and make him choke on them. Death by duck just seems really appropriate.”
