Prodigal Son (Orphan X, #6)

by Gregg Hurwitz

on their rack, turned precisely so the weight labels were aligned north. Ambient city light glowed through the lowered sunscreens, throwing a sheet of pale gold across the poured-concrete kitchen island, illuminating neither crumb nor smudge. He stretched luxuriously, felt his spine crack at the base. Then he crossed to the open kitchen, passing between