7
Her next meeting was impromptu. After assuring Clyde that she’d be fine, and watching him disappear in a cab, Harlow had gone back to Floyd’s to change her clothes. The caliber of people she’d have to face next would be much higher than the others she’d visited over the last few days. That meant frivolous things she hadn’t cared about since losing Ryske became relevant. Looking the part meant something to these people, so Harlow bit her lip and did her hair and makeup.
Noon had been kind enough to leave his car keys in his sock drawer. Next time she saw him—if she ever saw him—she’d tell him not to be so obvious.
Harlow wasn’t a fan of driving. Noon’s twitchy car didn’t help put her at ease. It didn’t respond like a regular vehicle; it was sensitive to every touch. He probably loved h
