

“Sorry, Carlton, all I know is on those little slips of paper, God’s honest.” She reaches delicately into the breast pocket of his shirt, and removes a folded stack of credits. “I don’t need to count this, do I?” Her smile is sweet enough as she drops a few bills on the table, enough to cover the food she ordered, thumb through a quick count, and turn to go. “Oh, and nice shirt, Caesar. If Headley doesn’t have what you need, there’s the tourist shop near the hunting resort two islands over. Take a water taxi. Becky knows the one I’m talking about. Used to get into all manner of trouble over there, they say.” She winks and saunters toward the water.





