Mrs. Chan called Matt Cadd when her place was burgled. She sat in the kitchen. Housecoat. Slippers. Sipping a screwdriver.
"I see him again, I shoot him," she said.
"Don't," he said. "Makes a mess."
She smiled, reached in a pocket, handed over two quarters.
"You get me a paper."
50¢ in the slot.
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