CHAPTER EIGHT
After the women left the room, Max and Clinton went to the kitchen for beers. Clinton got a six-pack from the fridge. “Everything will be all right.”
“I wish I had your confidence.” Max took a seat on the wooden stool. “I’m desperate and I hate being desperate.”
“No time to b***h about it.” Clinton slid a beer to Max across the counter. “Get your big boy panties on and figure out the shit.” He sipped from the Budweiser can. “Got to be an angle.”
“Leslie might be onto something.” Max opened the can and gulped beer. “She mentioned karma. Maybe someone set me up.”
“Isn’t that kind of farfetched?”
“It could be possible though, right?”
“How about it being a mistake?”
“How the hell can a woman ending up dead in my room be a mistake?” Max clasped the can with both hands. “Lo
