“The Expressway was congested, heading into the morning rush hour, and Trish seemed to relax only after the Roundhouse had receded into the distance. “Think the FBI will call me?” she asked, taking a deep drag. “Yes.” Mary didn’t see the point in lying to her. “They know you have information and they want to pick your brain.” “So what do I do?” “Good question.” Mary hit the gas, frustrated. Bennie would know what to do, but God knew where that stood. “Truth is, I never handled the FBI before. I’...m not really sure of the procedure. I should probably get you a lawyer with experience in this kind of thing.” “Not you?” “Not me, but I can help you find somebody.” “No.” Trish blew out a cone of smoke that blew back inside the car. “You did good in there. You stood up for me. So all you gotta do is stand up for me when the FBI calls. How hard can it be?” “Thanks, but—” “You tryin’ to ditch me?” Trish asked flatly, and Mary realized the truth.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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