CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The three of us were in our favorite booth in Dewey’s.
Me.
Frank.
Debra Patterson.
She was amazingly attractive in a heavy sweatshirt, patched blue jeans, dark round horn-rimmed glasses and disheveled blonde hair. She looked like she had just rolled out of bed and hurriedly thrown something handy on to get down here as fast as she could. Which … in fact … she had. And even though it was almost five in the morning she was eating chili fries as if chili were about to be banned. Eating them so fast Frank and I watched in admiration as we sat across from her in the booth and sipped our coffee in silence.
It had been Captain Bloom of South Side who told me to call her and invite her out for breakfast. Breakfast… in a roundabout way for her. Late supper for us. We just f
