Chapter 83

“My uncles take turns every year.”

“Nice family.”

“I’ve always been fond of them. Do you have any objections to meeting them?” The toast popped up, and Quinn took the slices out of the toaster and set to work buttering them.

“You sure you want them to meet me?”

“Well, of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“The CIA thinks I’m certifiable, and your uncle is CIA.”

“Was CIA, and why am I not surprised you’re aware of that?” The question must have been rhetorical, because he didn’t wait for me to answer it, just put the plate with the buttered toast on the table in the nook off the kitchen. “He knows what you did, Mark, after Mother’s ‘accident’. They all do.”

“Don’t know what you mean, Mann. I didn’t do anything.” I picked up the plates with the bacon and eggs and carried them to the table.

“No. Of course not. It was some strange woman who beat on Mrs. Wexler’s face…” Quinn brought the coffee mugs and set them down beside each plate.