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As I pretended to explain to my third party that sometimes there is a really bright light nearby and she should go into it, my phone rang out in Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, which meant Uncle Bob was calling. I almost dropped the phone, then smiled at Taft. “My previous call must have been disconnected.” I dared not comment on the fact that it had supposedly been on vibrate mere seconds ago.
First Grave on the Right (Charley Davidson, #1)
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