Chapter 8

We walked into a narrow hallway: somewhat illuminated by natural light, on the cooler side, with white walls and a red-brick floor. Tacoma was dazzled by the signed photographs on the walls and began to search out authors that he might know like King and Grisham and V. C. Andrews. He found a few and pointed them out, “Koontz and Patterson…I like them both.” Passed up the gay icons such as Picano, White, and Leavitt. No surprise.

“How clever of you, Tacoma. I’m impressed. Have you ever read any of these authors?” I pointed at signed photos of Clive Barker, Robin Lippincott, and a scrummy picture of the very popular and adorable Christopher Rice.

He shook his head as he walked to the door on the opposite side of the hallway. “I’ve never heard of, or read, those authors.”