“He wanted to warn me that the grapevine had heard I was at Lizzie’s house and we should have a story prepared. “Too late,” I said. I told him where I’d been and what I’d said. He was impressed. “So now they knowI a playa,” I said, trying to sound ghetto. It was lost on him. “Hey, it’s good that you called. I need a favor.” “Of course.” “I want to borrow your Lizzie Renoir file.” “Sure. You want security code to the arms locker too?” “I’m serious.” “No, you’re crazy. I can’t do that.” “Then give... me an unofficial version in an official-looking folder,” I said. “A redacted copy of the report, some of the less upsetting crime-scene photographs, floor plans, and all the key facts. Also the financials, everything you’ve got.” “Why those?” “Bank statements speak to me, like tombs to an Egyptologist.” “I assume you’re going to tell me why you want all of that?” “I want to see what the Cozy Foxes have to say about this.” “You want culpability findings from Lolo’s coffee klatch?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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