Chapter NineAt nine sharp the next morning, the three of us were at the agency, chugging super-sized coffees (nothing sweet or fancy this time), and devising a plan of attack for the day. Yes, it was Saturday, but private eyes didn't necessarily have five-day work weeks.
Linda looked beat with bags under the eyes the size of brassbound trunks. The seven-hour shift at the seafood restaurant had finished around one and Piggaletto's desire to be fed, petted, and walked at four had contributed to a very short night of sleep.
Rey finished the last of a Kona-K'au blend. Crushing the cardboard cup, she performed an impressive free throw into a braided-rush waste basket. “You don't think it's worth pursuing Cholla in L.A.?”
“Do we think she was involved with the fires? Or is into something ille
