The house was small, with a wide, well cared for front yard. When they got to the porch, Mick pushed the doorbell. It took a minute before Andy answered.
He looked at Mick in surprise, asking, “Why are you here?”
“I need to talk to you. Don’t worry; it’s got nothing to do with work.”
After a moment’s hesitation, and a doubtful look at Richard and Shorty, Andy stepped aside to let them in. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the sofa and a couple of chairs next to it. When they had, Andy asked, “What’s going on?”
“What I told you yesterday wasn’t quite the truth,” Mick replied. “I wasn’t gone because I was sick. Early Thursday morning, soon after I left The Rainbow I suspect, I was mugged.”
“Shit! You’re kidding.” From Andy’s expression, Mick thought he was genuinely surprised
“I’m not. Mr. Short—” Mick nodded at Shorty, “—found me. I’d been hit on the head and it took a while before I remembered who I was.”