He shrugged. “I just want to get home, get the laundry started, and lie down for an hour or so.”
“Come on,” Paul ordered. “Oh, and Spike’s already called shotgun. You’re sitting in the backseat.”
Quinn and I exchanged glances. It had been years since Paul had acted so squirrely, and I shook my head. Quinn smiled wryly, and we followed Paul and Spike out to the short-term parking lot.
II
AS IT TURNED OUT, Paul didn’t drive us to Aspen Reach. Instead, he drove us to Mann Manor.
“Paul?”
“Welcome home.” He pulled into the circular drive and parked in front of the veranda.
The exterior had a fresh coat of pale yellow paint, while the shutters at each window were a rich brown that matched the front door. The foundation of the veranda was hidden by a mass of shrubs, and the result was the veranda almost looked like it was floating on air.