“What do you want?” Eddie asked brusquely. He stood impatiently by his car, looking pointedly at his watch. Edward “Eddie” Ross was as tall as Mickey, but thinner, with just a hint of a stoop starting to curve his shoulders. But age couldn’t blunt his forceful manner or lengthen his patience span.
Mickey shifted uneasily. He was over thirty, not a kid, but he still found it hard to remain cool when Eddie looked at him like that. “We need to ask you some questions. Won’t take long.”
“Gave my statement yesterday to that flunky you sent over here to snoop through my life.”
So that’s what was bothering him. Mickey relaxed. “Come on, Eddie, we could really use your help. We’re trying to find out about a guy named Reggie Seymour. The old ladies say he sometimes stays with them.”
“Reggie?” Ed
