A crooked grin crossed her face as she said, "Johnny Watson, it really is you. Don't remember me, do you. Well, after all, it's been... what?... 25 or...30 years? Wait, let me take those cuffs off."John breathed a sigh of relief as he was freed, but was truly puzzled. Who was this woman, this city detective who seemed to know him? He rubbed his wrists and again looked at her closely. Shaking his head, he finally said, "You seem to have me at an disadvantage, ma'am. I just don't recognize you."She. I saw Doc before, but he didn't see anything. He still fucked the hell out of me, though. But now, I am really wondering. I'm gonna get him to check me, again. At the very least, he'll split my fuzz, again. He doesn't mind seeing any of us, because we all let him fuck us all he wants. I had planned on getting him and Essie together for a look-see. But she's gone wild over Francis, unless it's just a case of her liking the way he lays her. He DOES have an interesting looking pecker on him.Robbi. Will your husband be joining you later today, Mrs. Sloan?"I was taken aback, but Monica seemed to be expecting the question. "I don't know when if ever, " she said to the clerk. "But just a moment."Then she turned to me, and looked me straight in the eye, and said, "Andrea dear, what do you think? Think carefully now. Will my husband be here this week end, as far as you know?"A strange question. I wish I'd understood what she really meant, because I answered after only a moment, "No, I don't. But Dempsey’s is getting inside info. Somehow. When QS plans a sale on ... something, anything, Dempsey’s beats them to it. A day or two earlier. Sales prices just a little lower.”“Odd.” I’m working on being less garrulous, less chatty. I might seem more intelligent. Or could maybe pass for it. Plus, I listen better when my yap is shut.I paid a visit to Dempsey’s first. The place is not related to the Dempsey’s burger joint in Westport. Just one of those many unimportant coincidences that crop.
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