On paper it was a rather simple hit. An old friend of mine, Jonathan, wanted Marcus dead, but for some odd reason he didn’t want to take him out him...elf. Make it look like an accident, he had told me when he proposed the job to me. Jonathan and I were sitting in a quiet café, sipping lattes and nibbling on biscotti all very civilized even if the topic was murder. “The only stipulation is that you have to make it look like an accident,” Jonathan was saying, in his quiet voice, “it doesn’t really. "I asked you just this morning to refrain from this suggestive banter with your brother. You could talk like that to the wrong person and then you could be in big trouble without realizing it." Lani and her daughter were sitting at the kitchen table."Danny started it," Heather complained. "Why aren't you talking to him?" For one thing," Lani explained, "I've just about given up on reasoning with your brother. I think there's still hope for you. For another thing, you're becoming a very. More

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