This was tropical, the kind of heat that filled a room and hung on your shoulders like a hot wet blanket. The kind of heat that feels like drowning if you breathed too deeply. The kind of heat that Jones P.I. hated most.
Brothers, Sisters… Outsider. Welcome.
At age five he felt like he’d lived a thousand years, and pretending to be a child for 16 hours out of every few years was difficult.