Chapter Thirty-SevenA simple search told us that Camilla Randal, owner of The Black and White Boutique, was a twenty-seven-year-old slim blonde with pewter gray eyes who'd done a stint in juvi at sixteen for possession. She had three speeding tickets, owned a blue vintage Mustang and a home on Park Avenue.
While we waited for the Hunters to send us Camilla Randal's file, we drove to the Black and White Boutique on West Thirty-Fifth, the low sound of a radio show coming through the speakers.
“Yes, that's it, go,” Vincent crooned, waiting for the red Lincoln to leave so he could park in its spot, about two cars length down from the boutique.
“What do you think she is?” I asked, eyeing the assortment of fashionable mannequin dressed in dresses, feminine suits and tuxedos, and other formalw
