Literature
The Man With the Golden Eyes
I like art, but I don’t like art galleries. I’d just gotten off of a long, hard case, and I didn’t want to be here tonight. But Uncle David’s been dead-set on me being his plus one, and we owe the Hylands everything. After all, who else appointed him as Chief of Police? At least I had an excuse to buy a new dress— a nice one with a low v-cut and a leg split. I don’t look half-bad in navy blue. While nursing a glass of boozy punch (and wishing it was a beer), my uncle suddenly yanks me away from the bar and pulls me to a corner by the dance floor. “You see that young man over there?” He points to the other side of the room. “The one with the mayor?” I follow his pointed thumb and see Mayor Hyland with a man dressed in black. He’s sporting a familiar shock of carroty-red hair. I can’t get a clear look of his face, but I know him straightaway. “Wait, is that…” “Yeah,” my uncle confirms. “Little Rocco’s back.” Rocco Cassidy Hyland. The second son of Mayor Hyland. An awkward music
