Waltzing into the kitchen in her bathrobe, Harriet nabbed the horn, praying it was one of her girlfriends. She needed to talk to someone. Robert had been acting so peculiar. He was getting on her nerves and that made her skin break out. Her hopes evaporated when the automated voice came on. Then the operator’s drawl boomeranged in her ear. “We have a collect call from an inmate housed in a Department of Corrections facility. Will you accept it?” Common sense told her not to take it. “Yes, of course.” An irate, high-pitched voice shaved through the static. “This is Slatts. Is Robert there? I have to speak with him. It’s urgent.” “Slatts?” He replied with insincere friendliness. “How you doing, babe. Merry Christmas.” His name was unfamiliar. Harriet riffed through her mind and came up short. She’d never heard of him. That was odd. She was acquainted with all of Robert’s friends. It made her realize something. Her mate was a distant country. There were dark passages in him.
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