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"Ah, the perfect drink. You're the driver and I'm the screw. Is that what you were thinking, Sammy?" I wasn't thinking anything of the sort, Mrs. Ramo...," I lied."Lying doesn't become you, Sammy. I know you're accustomed to getting what you want. You saw me and said to your self, 'I'll have some of that'. Isn't that so?"I took a seat next to her and placed my drink on the coffee table. "That is not so, Mrs. Ramos. What makes you act in such a demeaning way?" Isn't it expected?" No."She sat up. She walked me to the door, patted my shoulder and said, "Come back in one piece. I like most of the parts you've got just now."In her carriage house, I was checking my cinch strap when someone touched me on the back. I pulled Magda's thin knife from my boot and whirled, ducking low, growling, ready to stab up at whatever awaited. It was Ivy. She was wearing the British officer's coat that had covered her mother's violated body back at the time of the Battle of Trenton, that glorious day that. More

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