"Maybe a rock opera," Barnaby pointedly corrected him, "but the last time I checked, that wasn't the same thing as an opera."

Honestly. Who could confuse that for the Italian classics his parents had listened to when he was a child? It could have been his imagination, but Barnaby thought he could feel yesterday's headache pressing against his temples again.

Lips slightly pursed, he picked up his fork and speared a piece of melon with it.