"Dead isn't permanent here always. Not sure there's any good alternatives here in Mathias."

John raised his eyebrows. Bridge? What bloody bridge? Ah, right. He must have missed that trip when he was holed up in Town Hall. John had more or less figured out who Malcolm was, but, well, he'd always be Harvard Boy or the Brain-y One. Malcolm had ruffled some feathers and he'd prefer not to get all cozy with the names.

"Attached," John repeated. "Like a puppy? Hate to tell you this, Raylan, but, that bit was obvious."

Then, he shrugged. "We all have our own bloody nightmares in this town and probably back home. Don't see why you're getting all bent out of shape because he had a bit of bumpy night."