“See, this was why I liked coffee. You couldn’t screw up making coffee. Even the bad stuff was good.”

“Coffee. I could smell coffee. Coffee would make everything better.”

“You cannot thrash the person who makes you coffee. It's a rule somewhere.”

“I was having coffee with my bodyguard. I didn't expect to be hunting bad guys until later. Leather before sundown is tacky.”

“Put a scoop of ice cream on it?” she asked. “And coffee. Everyone want coffee?” She looked inquiringly at us, smiling in a way that made me decidedly nervous, especially after that “I can get us a body” remark, and I nodded.Coffee? Why not?”

“My office is trashed,” he grumped as he squished across his damp carpet and took the coffee that I was holding out to him. “Why are you smiling? My fish are dead.”

“But why allow someone to make a bad choice when a little information might engender a better one? It's hard to wake up and see the sun if the blinds are pulled.”