“on Thursday, as Gail was pulling out of the driveway at her mother's house, Her cell phone rang. Bobby Gonzalez told her that the police had just arrived at his apartment with a search warrant. Could she come over? Gail told him to stay out of their way and be quiet. She would be there in fifteen minutes. "As if I know what the hell I'm doing," Gail muttered to herself. Bobby rented the spare room in an apartment near Lenox and Seventh, a relatively quiet area where the architectural blandness ...was mitigated by shade trees and tropical plants. The small, two-story building was not streamlined Art Deco but the flat, blocky style of the fifties. A school of gray and pink bas-relief dolphins swam across the end of it. Gail parked illegally at the curb in a residents-only zone and hurried along the sidewalk, passing two patrol cars and a plain sedan with a blue light on the dash. The men they belonged to were, she assumed, busy tossing her client's apartment. A cracked concrete walkway extended at right angles from the sidewalk, and a walk on the second floor formed a roof over the doors on the first.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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