““Changing of the guard?” Nick asked, but his face didn’t match the lighthearted tone, and I could tell he was making an effort. “Any success?” Stosser asked them, before either of us could make a response. “They all have a CCTV setup, but the recording’s wiped after twenty-four hours if nobody files a complaint,” Sharon said. “All legal by current laws, if incredibly skanky.” Sharon sounded disgusted; she might have been a great legal researcher but she’d have been lousy in court. “And if anyon...e knew or remembered anything, they weren’t talking. We should have sent Bonnie—she’d have been able to get something out of somebody there, turning on her trashy charm.” I made a shallow, mocking bow. Sharon wasn’t being obnoxious, much; her country club-style lush blondeness might turn some heads, including mine, but when it came to ferreting my way into the good graces of Goth-club bartenders and hyped-up bouncers, I’d perfected the art by the time I was sixteen.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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