Chapter 5
I was greeted by a kid when I walked into the Forsythe Hotel lobby on December twenty-third to drop off Angel’s next package. Though his nametag said Harold, he looked more like an RJ or a Cody. I wondered if he’d borrowed the silver vest he wore over a bright blue shirt from someone older.
The place was exquisite. Angel wasn’t making lawyer money yet, but he must have had some bank to be able to stay there instead of with his parents. There were three trees in front of three huge windows. Each ornament on each one had been meticulously hung, giving the triad of enormous blue spruces perfect symmetry. Thick ropes of pine hung overhead and there was a silvery wreath as big as the moon behind Harold. The thing had a bow on the bottom that would have wrapped around my truck severa
