. . ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. ‘Not kill me, I mean. “Well?” she said. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. “He was no help to the police, just babbled on about how he was going to marry your Mom and how he was in love with her, that they he had lost his true love, Michelle insisted on repeating that to me, ‘He lost his true love.
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