To Kill A Matzo Ball (A Deadly Deli Mystery) - Plot & Excerpts
“I didn’t clear this with the detectives, who are out, so I hope you’ll keep this between us,” he said. That was sweet. Either that or I was really hungry for a kind soul. Or, more likely, both. “Not a breath will escape,” I assured him. And then he said, “Your friend Mr. Juarez is a pimp.” I remember, when I was about five years old, my father and I built a snow man in Washington Square Park. It was about six feet tall, and while my father was putting the head on top, I was on my knees behind it, reinforcing the section where the torso met the base. Suddenly, the big snowball that made up the bottom collapsed and the entire figure fell on me. I was startled at the time, though I knew I shouldn’t be: we had piled too much snow too high on too little base. That was how I felt now. I had put an awful lot of weight on a foundation that was obviously shaky. I was startled for about a second—and then everything fell into place. “There was enough on his laptop for me to go online and see that someone operates a series of websites across the country offering escort services on an ‘in-call’ basis, meaning at local apartments or motels,”
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