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The Woman from the Past (Grassi Framily)

Page 33

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Coming back Cammie started to load the sides into a brown bag before flashing me three fingers then mouthed the word,Break.

“Everything looks great,” I said, tucking the cards in my pocket as Rizzo came back with the wrapped sandwiches.

“It tastes even better.”

“I bet it does. What do I owe you?” I asked, reaching for my cash clip.

“Twenty-eight dollars and forty cents,” Rizzo said.

I handed her the cash, then took my bags.

“I’ll be back if it is as good as Michael says,” I assured them.

As I was about to turn, I saw Cammie jerking her head to the left of the building, and I gave her a nod.

“See you guys around,” I called, making my way out, and heading back outside.

To the left of Rizzo’s was a liquor store—which I imagine Cammie did not mean—and then a coffee shop. Which seemed the most likely option.

I headed back to the hotel to share the food with August, finding myself a little irritated that it was all pretty damn good, then looking into the owners of the coffee place to see if they were related to Colin in any way.

“Seems like one of those raging feminist witch chicks,” August said, looking over my shoulder.

He wasn’t wrong.

The coffee shop seemed even more out of place than Rizzo’s for the neighborhood it was in.

Everything was bright and clean inside with gemstones on chains on the window, creating little rainbows inside. The tables were covered in artwork. The coffee selection seemed vast, as were the different milk and sweetener selections.

In the picture of the owner, she was wearing a shirt with a snake in the shape of a uterus with the wordsDon’t tread on mebeneath.

So, yeah, he wasn’t wrong.

But that also meant it was very unlikely she had anything to do with someone like Colin.

“You want me to drop in, don’t you?” August asked.

“I can’t be in the neighborhood again so soon.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Get a feel for the owner. I just want to make sure she isn’t in Colin’s pocket. You need to dress down, though. I stuck out like a sore thumb today.”

With that, we went our separate ways. Him, to the coffee shop. Me, to update Nino and Luca on the development.

I changed out of my suit, feeling almost uncomfortable in plain jeans and a tee as I drove back toward the neighborhood to meet up with August after buying a toss phone.

“So, what’s the verdict?” I asked as August slid into the passenger seat of my car.

To that, his eyes cut in my direction, looking both exhausted and frustrated.

I couldn’t help the chuckle that moved through me at that. “That good, huh?”

“She’s a pill,” he said, slamming his head back on the rest. “A horse pill, in fact,” he declared.

“Did you get anything out of her?”

“Oh, her political and ideological stances on every hot-button issue facing modern society,” August said.



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