“I need some tap water,” I said, pushing my heavy chair back.

“Let Valerie get that for you, Raymond,” Garrett said, starting to rise.

“My legs work just fine,” I said, and went into the kitchen before either of them could move.

The penthouse kitchen had polished black granite counters and stainless steel appliances that reflected the recessed lights overhead.

Valerie was standing at the sink with her back to the archway.

Her right elbow was raised, and she was holding a small gray plastic dropper bottle directly over a ceramic mug.