Rick stopped walking.
I assumed the story had upset him, and I didn’t read anything more into it.
I sat beside Owen.
« What are you reading? » I asked.
He tilted his head toward my voice.
« You smell like cinnamon. »
« A mystery. »
« Is it good? »
« The dog found the missing necklace before the detective did. »
« That sounds like a talented dog. »