Chapter 10

In the distance, he heard laughter—the boys on the bikes, he suspected. Somewhere a dog barked, and along the Boulevard, cars and the occasional truck zoomed through the intersection. Brakes squealed when the light turned red. The dog barked again, an agitated sound, as Vic started in on the second sausage.

Dogs were too noisy, Vic thought. Especially those little ones, the purse pooches so popular among Hollywood’s young ladies. At least cats were quiet creatures for the most part, though Vic had seen his landlady’s felines swarm around her legs as she unpacked her groceries, and he didn’t think he could stand something constantly under his feet like that. Or sitting on the dining room table grooming itself as he ate. Or sleeping in his bed.