I said. “How nice to see you again. But you didn’t have to shoot the lock off the door. It was open.”She hoisted her two thirty-eights back into her spandex where they belonged and sauntered into the office.“Hi Denver. Isabel here yet?” she asked, ignoring me and dropping into a chair like a hundred and twenty pounds of beautiful cement.“She’s on her way up,” Denver said, twirling the shotgun in her pudgy little hand like the head majorette in the homecoming parade. “She’ll be here in a couple of minutes.”“How are you, Amber?” I was trying to get a friendly conversation started. I didn’t like the way this day was turning out and Amber wasn’t taking the bait. She did, however, reach out and take half of my sandwich. For a personal trainer, Amber Dawn ate like a racehorse.Denver’s eyes flashed toward the door and I knew that Isabel had arrived. I could have smelled her coming-- wisteria, gin and cheap cigars, my favorite combination.I looked up and there she was, six-feet-five-inches of hard right angles.
What do You think about Liturgical Mysteries 01 The Alto Wore Tweed?
