Chapter 97

I closed the door with a bump of my hip and headed for the sliding doors.

Sanford looked up. “Good evening, Mr. Bascopolis. Mr. Matheson left word you’d be coming.”

“Do you need to frisk me?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“No problem.” I set the Crockpot and the bags down and held out my arms.

Sanford was brisk and thorough. He sniffed and looked wistfully at the Crockpot. “Something smells good.”

“Would you like some? I made plenty.”

“I’d love it! My…uh…wife isn’t much of a cook.”

I took out a plate and a fork, tore off a chunk of bread, and gave him a portion of the stew.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Does Young know I’m on my way?”

“Yes.” He was already dipping the bread into the stew.

Young would probably want some too. It was a good thing I’d made so much. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

“Mmm,” he said around a mouthful.

I got in the elevator and managed to press the button for seven.

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