Sarg’s car was out of the shop, but the next morning he took the train, anyway. “In my next life, I wanna be a train engineer. Riding the rails, seeing the sights.”
“Blowing the horn to avoid hitting drunks walking on the trestles. Or cars jumping the gates.” Drayco felt like blowing the horn himself, narrowly avoiding a red-light runner as Leonora’s brakes squealed in protest.
“You can be a downer, you know that?” As they pulled up in front of the warehouse where Elvis Loomis had a loft apartment, Sarg added, “Talk about downers.”
No worries of D.C. gentrification here. The billions of dollars being spent on the Capital Riverfront along the Anacostia and Potomac Rivers a few miles south hadn’t reached this place. Amazingly, the building wasn’t condemned, and Elvis proved he did indeed
