Date: Fri, 2 Mar 2007 03:52:14 -0500 (EST)
"Now she was looking at him shiningly, the paper in her hand forgotten. afterward airfoil Bees were crawling over them.
He looked sixty-five but might be eighty; he might be the senior partner of a law firm or the semi-retired patriarch of a construction company, but was more likely a rancher or a realtor. I needed to open the door again. Yes, he supposed he did. "At least seven. They don't take you all the way to Denver if you're innocent! He said he was an artist, although I found out later he was nothing but a hippie dope-fiend dirty bird who had been washing dishes in an Estes Park restaurant for the last couple of months. It looks good on paper, and there are people who build those things who'd tell you it was easy as pie — and even keep a straight face while they said it — but the odds are always against. carboxy
