GavinAs soon as I get her “Yes” and respond with tonight’s plans, I feel better. But not better enough to stop my surveillance. Jaws has had around-the-clock guys parked out down the street from the Piccolo house for days now, but so far, they haven’t found s**t – about Hannah, about Torrie Piccolo, about any of them.
So, I made Jaws get an uglier van, and come camp out here with me. And, sitting here in this piece of s**t Honda from the 80s, armed with a couple of Glocks and one fat bag of Cheetos, so far, we too haven’t found s**t.
No one’s even gone in or out of the house in the past four hours we’ve been plopped here. Nope, the only progress we’ve made so far is on the Cheeto bag, which is now down to a few sad crumbles at the bottom.
“Oy, Boss,” Jaws says, shoving the binoculars at
