The Chase (30 page)

“You have help, Jane Drysdale. Mine. I am your legal counsel.”

Maybe the air bag hadn't inflated. Jane felt as if she'd suffered a serious head injury.
“And why would I need legal counsel, Perry Mason?”

“For the murder of Tivat.” He looked at her as if she'd forgotten that two plus two equal
four.

“Tivat? The elf-turned-rabbit? Okaaay. And what is that called? Elficide? Vehicular
Fairyslaughter? Reckless Endangerment of a Pixie?”

“It's called murder. I wouldn't joke about it, Jane Drysdale. The implications are
serious.”

Lynsay Sands has been writing since she was a child. She has a degree in psychology,
enjoys reading both horror and romance, and believes a sense of humor can “see you through
nearly anything.” She loves hearing from her readers and welcomes letters at:

P.O. Box Market Tower Post Office 141 Dundas Street London, ON N6A 5S5 Canada