The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. "Take this key to Baptist Kettleby. Sebastian drank deeply and quickly of her blood. And then I came here. Her time and effort was justly rewarded, because the hard cold facts she knew about neighborhood intrigues were better than fictional soap operas. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. ” She pulled a small blue box out of the pocket of her hoodie. She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain. Then she went below.
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