Fillmore to the Rescue

             Fillmore turned as if he were about to leave the room.

            “Fillmore,” I said sharply.

            “Miss?”

            “How long would it take to make this place look deserted?  Have all the windows boarded up?  Weeds and scrub brush transplanted into the front yard?  Possibly a lot of litter - beer cans and fast food wrappers, that sort of thing -   strewn around the driveway.

            The left corner of his mouth twitched slightly.  In Fillmore’s world, that’s a hearty guffaw. “Would you like me to make arrangements for the additional staff, Miss?”

            I groaned.

FILLMORE TO THE RESCUE

THE FILLMORE CHRONICLES:  BOOK ONE

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