Chapter Seventeen
As Two AM arrived and Lise DeCaprio sat in the killer’s freezer a solid block of human flesh and the man who had murdered her tried to forget such things, Mandal had finally thrown the white towel into the ring.
“Uncle, Mal.” She said, savoring one last bite of shrimp and pasta that seemed to have materialized from nowhere, the chef was so effortless with in his mastery.
Mal himself filled to the brim, smiled as he swept her plate off the block before her, moved to his sinks where he quickly washed the dishes and re racked them in their proper slots.
Reaching for his pack of Galois, he tilted the pack to her. She gratefully took one, placing it between her lips. Lighting her smoke, she smiled slightly as he lighted his own.
“Mal.”
“Yes.”
“I hate to sound like a hou
