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want to know what John said?" "I figured you'd tell me, no matter what. OK. What'd he say?"

Shannon told him to stuff it, acting as if the God of Hosts couldn't draw that information from her. But her feigned resolve melted in the unchallenged silence, enthusiasm spilling like a kicked bucket. Normally, about medical issues or day to day tasks, she was very structured. Now, her eagerness had her bouncing all over what John said today, what John ever said whenever it was he said it, and things John would have said or might have said, given the opportunity. She wasn't being as totally irrelevant as it would seem to an outsider. She knew this man and his so called inner beast and needed the perception of both. He could sense fine print on a gnat's wing. She had to keep the moody and visceral half of Marcus Macaluso at bay. Distract him with historical fluff. He was both a sucker and a sponge for history, as was her husband John, though John's interests were much more focused. Shannon blurted into a total vacuum, that Bernadette Devlin had been given the key to New York City. Did he know that? Doctor smarty pants? No he didn't. Hah. When? John knows. Somewhere around Hughey Newton's time. When was that? She was scanning her memory for dates with associations such as what dress did she wear to meet Devlin when John took her. It was the one with the silver trim, so... Anyway, did he also know that Devlin turned right around and gave that city key to Hughy Newton? Did he? Huh? No. Pissed off a whole bunch of folks, which reminded her, Betty didn't come to work yesterday because her hair dresser turned her hair yellow. Nothing to do with a sister dying. Betty doesn't have a sister. John said Malcolm's book was a big seller in Belfast. Didn't know that, huh? "Got your knees ready?" She teased that everybody was looking forward to mocking out the doctor's knees again this year. His