“Nothing in a week on this end. No one has gone near either house. Nothing new at The Peacock Club, though one of the regulars is spending more money than he ought to have.” “Who is he?” “Just a working stiff. No record. Probably just inherited a few bucks when Aunt Gertrude died. Nothing real suspicious. How’s it goin’ there?” “Oh, Madonne!” Sallie’s favorite Italian expletive punctuated the end of Jared’s story. Salvatore had a large Italian family, none of whom, unfortunately, had been in a financial position to take on an extra mouth to feed when Sallie was orphaned at the age of ten, but he could recite a litany of Italian curse words if the situation required it. “What are you going to do?” “I can’t seem to protect her here without putting her under lock and key. We’ll be returning to Chicago after I talk to the police and see to Will. Probably about a week. Do me a favor, Sal. Stop in at the shop and let Mr. Hollister know Grace will be a few more days.
