This “relationship,” if I can call it that, just became interesting again last night, but in a different way. Midnight told me she lives off Northwest Expressway, nothing else. When I pressed her, told her I thought maybe we should cool things, she sent me an email attachment: a photo of a beautiful woman she says is her.

I’m no longer interested in her as a woman, no way. A short time before I was shot, a paraplegic went off a balcony and landed on the ground of the atrium of a local hotel. No one could discover how he went over. What wasn’t reported in the news – a folded copy of this photo found in his pocket. – the same picture she sent me. 

I want to solve that murder, and Midnight, Norma Fields, is involved some way.

Midnight, I’m going to find you.  I WILL find you.

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