Chapter 55: Miranda

We were back to that. I had to find a way to distract him. Continuing to act like a loon wouldn't get it. Eason had an uncanny ability to sniff out lies like a coonhound did prey. Fabricating excuses would only intensify his hunt. A distraction was the only thing that would suffice. "I'm starving. Want to get something to eat before we go home?"

He glanced at the Rolex that adorned his wrist. It had been a gift from his parents when he had passed the bar. Eason McNabb came from a long line of money-old money, as we liked to refer to it in the South-not that anyone would know it from talking to him. "Yeah, it's late. I don't feel like cooking an elaborate meal once we get home."