I puffed on a Cuban while sitting in the motel parking lot. It helps take the mind off unpleasant business. Normally, I enjoy my job very much, but it sucks when someone close to you falls under the wrong influences.
I straightened up as the door opened. It was Johnny Malone, my partner. I sighed, checked the silencer, and slipped out of the car. The Feds got to him. Unpleasant business. But you can’t let it get personal.
