I pulled up to the curb to find Thomas leaning against a streetlamp with Mouse, both looking miserable.
I got out and looked at them. "Do I want to know?"
His face the very picture of victimized agony, Thomas pointed to Harry's apartment. "Guitar practice."
"Ah," I breathed, wondering if I could make an excuse to come back later without looking like I was wimping out.
Thomas looked at me, seeing my thoughts, and he smirked and nodded toward the door. "Don't stop on my account, Lieutenant."
I glared at him, braced myself, and walked into the fray.