Sam pulled off of the old river road outside of St. Rose and switched on the overhead light. Gotta get me a GPS, he reminded himself. Even above the engine, he could hear the crickets calling back and forth to each other along the river bank. After Sam checked his map, he rolled the window down further. Jem was right. Distant blues notes throbbed through the heavy air above the trees confirming that he was on the correct road to Cat"s Blues Heaven.
Gotta get me a GPSWhen he leaned over to roll down the passenger window, he noticed headlights in his rear view mirror. A classic 1967 Mercedes 250SL pulled up alongside him and flashed its lights.
“You must be horny as hell to have me drive all the way out here to meet you, Sam Lerner,” a female voice called out into the night. “Fortunately,
