The party they'd attended had proved disastrous when Brint got so drunk that he threw up on the elegant flagstone terrace in front of some of the most...important people on Long Island. Fran had never been so mortified in her life. And Brint had seemed proud of himself as they drove home, almost gloating over his "accomplishment", making her want to throttle him with her bare hands.As it was, she hadn't spoken to him since, and Brint lay upstairs in bed nursing his hangover with characteristic. Paul was surprised when he saw Ben move a short weapon to the front seat before loading baggage into the rear of the big vehicle."What is that Ben?" Paul asked."It's a, ah, shotgun," Ben answered hurriedly as he repositioned another piece of luggage.Once they were all seated, Ben and Pete in the front, Paul, Abigail, and Ava in the back, Paul noticed Pete settle another shotgun beside him on the front seat."Pete. Is that another shotgun?" Paul asked."Yes dad." Pete held the short weapon up so. More

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