CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Travis pushes the small, fake-pearl doorbell. A chime rings inside. He waits. Hears soft footsteps, the door opens a fraction, one eye looking him over. He waits, the eye looks, he hears, ‘Oh my gosh. Travis. Come in, come in.’
She is dressed in tight blue tracksuit bottoms, a black t-shirt under which her bra-free boobs are moving as she’s jumping up and down.
Travis laughs.
Still the same, he thinks.
‘Sit down. Sit down. Nobody ever tells me anything about you, you poor thing.’
‘Susie, I’m looking for a couple of guys. Vietnamese guys into drugs. I think that…’
‘What the f**k? You want me to get mixed up with drugs again. Travis, I thought you came to see me,’ she says folding her arms now, looking away, acting hurt.
‘I did. I did come to see you, but the rea
