Constance did what she did out of love. If she couldn’t have him, then no one could. He was all she had in the world and she didn’t want anyone swooping in and snatching him from out of her life. If she lost him, she wasn’t sure that she could get over it. Just the thought of it made her sick. She had it bad for him and didn’t think that she’d ever be able to shake him loose.
Constance unlocked the door from the panel when she saw him approach. He snatched the front passenger door open and deposited himself in the seat. She fired up the BMW 640i and pulled out of the parking lot. Occasionally, she’d glanced over at Fear and the photograph he was examining.
“Who we got?” she asked of the cat on the picture.
“Reginald Burson. His Alias is Bugsy. I wanna see where this place is tonight, so
