Chapitre 27: Chapter 27: Fly the Friendly Dead Skies

There was a surprise waiting for us at the airport, a well-dressed, heavily-scented surprise in a salmon cravat.

“Xander, darling! Skipping out of town, are we?”

I really should have smelled Cecil before he sprung himself on us unannounced but a) the airport reeked of death, as you might expect, and b) as far as I could tell, he had recently bathed in the stinkiest fragrance in existence and I had mistaken him for a normal, living man with too much faith in his cologne.

Xander frowned at the unwelcome dead guy at the gate. “Are you following us?”

“Following you? Don’t be absurd! I’m on holiday. It just so happens that I have a number of very close relations living in Argentina.” He winked at me. “It’s a rather popular locale for people with my condition.”

They locked eyes in a testosterone-charged battle of wits (assuming Cecil, being dead, still had any testosterone in him), Cecil with his pasted-on smile and Xander with his equally pasted-on scowl.