"They make horrid coffee," Bela said, peering up over the pages of her book. She reached up to fold down the corner of her page before laying it down on the table. "But they also frown upon gun and knife fights in their stores. I thought that perhaps it would do us both good to have that policy hanging over our heads."
She folded her hands atop the table and grinned at Dean. "It's been awhile, hasn't it, Dean? If I didn't know any better I might say you've been avoiding me while we've been here. Sending your brother to do the dirty work with me?" She raised an eyebrow. "Not your style."