Michael Malone - Weebly

all, a former convict. Might he plan to harm her? Or
perhaps to tell her that he had set fire to her Manhattan
townhouse, just as his friend Habzi Rabies had burned
up her lake cabin years earlier? Art was a very
expensive hobby. "What do you mean?" she asked, jaw
thrust up at him.
"They cut off your phone or what? I been trying to
get you since last night. Then I just couldn't hold it in; I
had to split and lay it on you right away."
"Lay what?"
"Jack! That's what! Lady, you are one rich dame!"
"Well, of course, I'm certainly comfortable, Louie,
but, now, just a minute, couldn't I fix you a cup of
coffee, and perhaps your friend out in the car would—"
"Yeah, well, I was nosing around those extra
bedrooms you got in the back of your pad."
"Louie! Those were locked!"
"Yeah, I know, but come on, Trina, this is big stuff,
man. Catch me later with the lecture, okay? You know
what's back in those rooms?"
"I certainly do. Personal belongings of my late
husband's, and I feel that I must say—"