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about unloading the car at Barney’s place. Gus was never sure what to call Barney’s digs. Was it an estate? A minicastle? A palace fit for a king named Barney? Barney said it was just a house to sleep in that happened to have a six-car garage, with a high-end car in each bay. A house that sat on five pristine, manicured acres, which held a tennis court, an Olympic-size swimming pool, a four-bedroom guesthouse, and another building where his live-in housekeeper and gardener resided.
    The inside of the palatial house was just as spectacular as the outside, but in a different way. Inside, it was all home and hearth, with comfortable furniture, fireplaces that worked, and a kitchen that would have been any chef’s idea of perfection. It was homey, and it smelled like Granny’s house. Barney had told Gus once that one of his rules was he always wanted his house to smell like something was cooking or baking, and he had succeeded.
    Gus looked over at his pudgy friend—at his owlish glasses, his thinning hair, his kind eyes—and got all choked up. “I don’t know what to say, Barney.”
    â€œThen don’t say anything, okay? You know I hate it when you go all mushy on me. I have an idea. Let’s pitch a tent and sleep out tonight. We can make a campfire and roast some weenies and marshmallows. We can tell ghost stories, or you can tell me horror stories of your marriage, whatever pleases you. It will be like old times, but now we’re legal to drink beer. What do you say?”
    â€œI say let’s do it. Barney, did you ever have anyone kiss you until you thought your tonsils were going to pop out?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œAnd you didn’t marry her?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œBut why?”
    â€œWell, for one thing, I wanted to keep my tonsils. So I won’t get sore throats. You get sore throats once your tonsils are removed. For another thing, when a woman kisses me, I want it to be because she loves me and wants me to be the father of her children.”
    â€œAh.”

Chapter 4
    G US ROLLED OVER, UNCERTAIN FOR A MOMENT AS TO WHERE he was, something that it seemed was becoming a habit. He reached out, thinking he was in bed with Elaine, until he felt the stubble on Barney’s face. He whooped and sat up, waking Barney.
    â€œWhat the hell!”
    â€œBad dream, Barney. Sorry. Damn, it’s raining.”
    â€œGranny always said April showers bring May flowers,” Barney said, sitting up. “I feel like crap. Been awhile since I downed six beers, a bag of marshmallows, and four weenies. Do ya think we’re too old for this crap, Gus?”
    â€œNah! You’re never too old for your memories. They just come out different in real life. We never did get around to the ghost stories. That’s probably why we feel like shit this morning. We didn’t complete the ritual.”
    â€œYeah, well, we aren’t ten years old anymore, either,” Barney groaned. “Let’s pack up the sleeping bags and head on into the house to get cleaned up. Then we can sit down and have a good breakfast. After that, I’m heading out to the farm to see Granny and the aunts. What are you going to do?”
    Gus thought about it. What was he going to do? “Guess I’ll sit around here and wait for you to get back. Bring Wilson with you, okay?”
    â€œYeah, sure. You should hang out in my office in case the detective or lawyer fax something over. You need to be on top of everything from here on in. Phil Ross is the detective, and Jillian Jackson is the lawyer. Everyone calls her Jill. You’re going to like them both. They’re both animal lovers, so that’s a plus. Unlike Elaine, who does not like animals. Does she like anyone except herself, do you know?” Barney asked as he rolled up his sleeping bag and stuffed it into a sack, then pulled the drawstring. “We don’t have to worry about the tent. Tim will take