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CHAPTER 23

Carlos adjusted the hem of his collar, wondering if he should knock on the white door, or turn back and return to his apartment. Something at the back of his mind advised him not to proceed, that this was a bad idea. He should have at least thought it through instead of jumping to follow Beth’s instructions like an errand boy. He was not a dog, and certainly not a timid one.

“Goddamn it” He rustled and bit his finger, turning away from the door.

Yellow lights shown on the empty hallway, reflecting on the marbled floor and adding more grace to the white polished wall. This part of the pub was a private space, dedicated wholly to the Red Heron. They had not told the landlord of course, but Mitch had been strict in his dealings and had warned the white-beard landlord that he was paying not only for the space but for the privacy as w

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