Ann Hurwitz said, dunking one of the two biscotti I had brought her into the cappuccino I had also brought to her office. A bribe. “Seven weeks,” I said. “How do you feel about it?” “Helpless. Relieved. I’m thinking of buying a cheap car and leaving.” “Again.” “Again,” I said. “This time maybe I’ll go west till I hit the Pacific Coast somewhere.” “And you’ll look out toward Japan but see nothing but water.” “Maybe it will be clean.” “Pollution is everywhere.” “Sally’s leaving me. Someone is trying to kill me or at least frighten me. I have a new client I don’t like and another client who lied to me and may be a child molester.” “Lied about what?” “I don’t know, but I know he lied. Lies are heavy, dark, deep behind too much sincerity. And there are people depending on me, Ames, Flo, Adele. And Victor.” “Your house guest from Chicago.” “Yes. And I don’t like my new rooms. Too big. I like things, and places, small.” “Cubicles,”
What do You think about Bright Futures: A Lew Fonesca Mystery (Lew Fonesca Novels)?
