Chapter 52: Trapping Wild Boars
Chapter 52
Trapping Wild Boars
I climbed into the passenger seat and strapped in. “What’s the scoop?”
“I got to thinking about when we talked to Manuelo the other day, and I believe I found some holes in his story.”
“So where are we going, to Carlos’ house?”
“No, to Manuelo’s other work. I don’t want Carlos to see us with him.”
In fifteen minutes we were at the accounting firm of Biddle and Ferns, standing in front of yet another receptionist with a thick Texas accent and an apple-pie smile. As I thought about it, I almost laughed. Of course she had a Texas accent, if we were in Brooklyn the receptionist would have a Brooklyn accent, no smile, and likely tell everyone who smiled at her to go to hell.
In less time than it takes to say southern drawl,
