I had a choice here. I could either head directly to the alternative Christian Light of the Earth Church, or I could first grab lunch at Jack’s Diner across the street and examine the old file. The last thing I wanted to do was start bullying Long before I knew what I was dealing with in terms of facts, or lack thereof, concerning Finnegan’s strange death.
Jack’s Diner was an Albany institution. The last trailer-style diner left in the city now that the old Miss Albany had closed down. You could still get a greasy cheeseburger served up at the counter by waitresses who sported major league bosoms packed into tight little blue uniforms. They also served the best fries in town. I might not be thirty-something anymore, but I still loved my french fries.
I settled onto a seat at the counte
