The newspaper was filled with rank speculation about a high-up connected guy that was under lock and key in the tombs. He was a Brooklyn wise-guy and ... “made” man, so it hard for me to wrap my head around his arrest in the first place because the shit was about stuff that had happened at least three prosecutors ago and was centered around extortion and arson cases that the insurance companies had written off a couple of decades ago.Nothing about the criminal justice system surprised me any. " Aye aye, mon capitan," I replied with a cheesy smile and a salute.Not bothering to dignify my stupidity, Karen simply turned over and wentback to bed.Carrying my load down the stairs and into the laundry room, I stewed in thecauldron of my thoughts.Ever since the incident at the mall, I'd felt somewhat off-kilter, and Ihad a sneaking suspicion (read: I'm clueless, so a certainty) that Karencould tell something was the matter. The vivid, and somewhat terrifyingdreams that had become the norm. More

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