"I was going to have you go to Isabella's house for me," Nadine said, searching the giant piles in her kitchen.

Junk was stacked to the ceiling in some parts of the room, and perched between two precarious piles of clocks and broken fans on top of the refrigerator was a fluffy murder ball of rage. Studmuffin had appeared there shortly after we got here, and I wasn't even sure Nadine knew it. She should've, though, given the filthy looks he kept throwing her when she walked by. ...