My father was Colonel Pellissier. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. “When did you look up my mother’s records at the Joliet library, Michelle?” Lucy asked, trying not to incriminate herself by sounding confrontational. “The man is dangerous. ” She turned and fitted the latchkey into the door. He sat down. Ten thousand islands, and each one good for a night's rest.
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