Lynn narrowed his eyes at the departed Bobby. "Yes, I can." Bobby was a fucking basilisk. As if they had any fucking room to talk about suspicious deaths in the family, please. What a worm. To hell with him. "How did Wynn look?"
"Same as ever," Leslie said sourly. " Clearly pleased with himself, the fucking bastard." His hand shook faintly as he lifted his drink and took a long swallow. Lynn signaled for a second one. "I'm sorry to ruin"
"Oh, shut up," Lynn said. "You don't have to apologize for not wanting to fucking die, you goddamn moron. Anyway, it's a dinner. Not a big deal."
Leslie looked up, eyes dark and sad. "Mom told me."
Lynn sighed. "That woman is an interfering menace."
"Who are you telling?" Leslie retorted. "So how are you?"