Chapter 16: Chapter 16

We got out of the car and strolled up the walk to the front door. “You know, it blew my mind the first time I saw this house,” I told Quinn.

“When you pretended to be Skip Patterson, you mean?”

I ignored that. I was still a little steamed the photos I’d had of Quinn’s Phillips Exeter schoolmate were so out-of-date. I’d met him in the flesh when we went to Quinn’s twentieth reunion in June, and Quinn had introduced me to a man who was thirty pounds heavier and whose hairline was starting to give up the ghost. Quinn had been trying to look innocent when he introduced us, but I knew him too well to buy it.

“You liked it?”

“Huh? Oh, the house? Yeah.”

“I’m glad.”

“It must have been amazing growing up here.” And having people like Portia and Nigel Mann for parents.

“It was.” He raised a hand to knock on the door, but it was thrown open before he could, and his mother stood there, beaming at him. At us.