Her target was a fifty-four year old man who lived with his mother, an obese neighborhood woman, a widow named Dawn Plote. I am not prying for my own amusement. Not Trodger. ” She could practically hear the self-deprecating thoughts racing across his mind, the failed hours of rehearsed lines. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence. Sheppard!" echoed Jack, surprised out of his caution. CHAPTER XIII.
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