7
After Corey dressed, he led Will downstairs again, but stopped at the front door with his hand on the knob, his head cocked at an inquisitive angle. Will didn’t notice Corey had stopped until he bumped into the hustler’s stiff back. “What?”
Corey glanced at him, and that seemed to make up his mind. Catching Will’s hand in his own, Corey pulled him down the hall that led to the kitchen, a resolute set to his jaw. “You should meet Bobby.”
“He’s here?” Will glanced around, suddenly nervous. He’d thought they’d been alone…had Bobby heard them upstairs? As Corey stopped at the last door off the hallway, Will pointed out, “I thought you said he didn’t want to talk to the cops.”
“He didn’t want to go to the police station with me,” Corey corrected, flashing Will a quick grin. “But you’re here, and he’s here, so why not just stop in and say hi?”