She had been firmly fixed in place so she couldn’t budge, and there were marks from her earlier use by others, each one a kind of badge of honor.But...before I started in on her, I stopped to survey the wreckage left by last night's party here at Rumps. Not only were there empty bottles, glasses, leftover food and plates strewn everywhere, plus tables overturned, but there were…bodies. Lots of them. More than usual, I mean. Rumps is frequently a mess, but last night…well, there was a private. I used a phone number the boss gave me and set the wheels of the divorce in motion. I went in and signed the necessary forms after work, and arranged to have her served at her work. She's a secretary for Marston Trucking; the same place, ironical as hell, that Alan Whitley worked for. May the two of them rot forever in the place reserved for the devil and his stinking traitorous angels! Morgan Halsey, a direct, though distant, relative of the WW II admiral was my law dog. "Clyde, you get half. More

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