Chapter Thirty-One
“You’re a smarmy beast, de Angeles.” Armand was drinking the offered shot of clear liquid the detective poured into his coffee mug.
“This stuff is superb, hardly leaves a scent on your breath.”
“Where’d you get it?” Armand asked.
“Where did we always get it?”
“You’ve been north?”
“Just returned.”
“So, how’s the operation up there?”
“You know I can’t say a thing, since you’ve been ‘de-classified.’“
Armand shrugged and returned to the stack of papers on his desk.
“Must be getting on your nerves by now,” de Angeles pressed, pouring another shot of liquor in Armand’s mug.
“You better watch it with that stuff,” Armand said.
The man smirked.
“Just in case you wondered, friend, the rumors are true.”
“What rumors? What are you talking about?”
“The ladies.”
“What
