“On the way, my eyes brimmed. "Don't say it." Crumley avoided my face. "I don't want to hear." I swallowed hard. "Three fires and an earthquake. And more coming!" "That did it!" Crumley hit the brakes. "Don't say what you think, dammit. Sure, another quake's coming: Rattigan! She'll rip us all! Out, out, and walk!" "I'm afraid of heights." "Okay! Zip your lip!" We drove down beneath twenty thousand leagues of silence. Out on the street, in traffic, I scanned the newspapers, one by one. "...Hell," I said, "I wonder why he let us have these?" "Whatta you see?" "Nothing. Zero. Zilch." "Gimme." Crumley grabbed and used one eye on the news, one on the road. It was starting to rain. " 'Emily Starr, dead at twenty-five,' " he read. "Watch it!" I cried as the car drifted. He scanned another paper. " 'Corinne Kelly divorces Von Sternberg.' " He hurled the paper over his shoulder. " 'Rebecca Standish in hospital.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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