CLYVE

I STROLLED around the property, taking pictures after the breakfast we had together.

I looked at Westley every now and then when Keene was not looking at us. The bloke seemed so gormless. They were friends for a few years, and it was impossible he didn’t have any idea what his roommate was doing at night, or he chose not to question her choices in life.

I was still wondering why she had to be a camgirl at night if she had a day job in the antique shop. I knew it didn’t pay much, but that would do the bills.

I burrowed Keene’s car to drive to the...