“Serena will always win that one.”
“Henderson Carlyle won’t be winning anything anymore.”
“Have you interviewed the other women who registered complaints against him?”
“That’s our plan this week. My hope is with him dead, they will be open to talking.”
“Unless one of them killed him,” Jimmy said.
“Give us your gut instinct again, Jimmy,” Barone said. “You think a woman killed him?”
“No,” he said, and this time there was strength of conviction behind his words.
“Thanks for coming in. We appreciate it,” Barone said.
“That’s it?”
“You want to stay, have a donut with us?”
Jimmy actually laughed. “Definitely not.” He stood up, slipping his black leather jacket on. It made him feel better, like he was already transitioning into his skin, his neighborhood. It served as a good reminder t
