And Joyce, what exactly do you want out of this situation? A good fuck? You can get that elsewhere. Or is it that you want to be with Kara and she won...��t be with you alone?” I asked bluntly.“Steve!” Kara said. “What’s gotten into you?”Joyce let out a long sigh, “Kara, it’s OK. He’s right.”“About Terry? Or about me?” Kara asked, clearly confused.“Both,” she said, looking down. “I’m sorry. I’ve made a mess of things. And to think, I used to give Steve a hard time when he did stuff like this!”“You. ”“Very good Madam. And is this a new member of the fold?” The dude nodded toward Eric. Pretty lame of Triss to call him Alfred; guy wasn’t even old. He didn’t seem to mind though, and he stepped aside to let them in.He seemed kind of creepy too, and it only got worse as Eric stepped into the mansion. A few more people came by to see who had showed up, and they all had the same sort of subtle smile, the smile a person had when they were happy. Brainwashed? Brainwashed.Eric couldn’t help but. During his first year as a police officer, Dad had arrested Mr. Hanover for attempted murder. Mr. Hanover had been paroled four weeks ago and had died from a massive heart attack within two weeks -- two weeks before his fiftieth wedding anniversary. And today, the day of the anniversary, his widow had taken out her grief and rage. Dad had stepped out of the station, on his way to meet Mom for lunch, and Mrs. Hanover had shot him twice in the chest. I was asking God why the hell he couldn't take. It was on an estate in deepest Cornwall, former home of some lord of the manor who had made his fortune from the tin mines that used to flourish in the area.“Yes, I’m the gamekeeper,” I said, entering into the spirit of the woman’s playful greeting.It was seven in the morning. These days I can never stay in bed, even when I don’t have to get up. And on this week-long break in the countryside, I certainly didn’t have to get up. Nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to meet. I had even turned off.