I hoped that Doucet, wherever he was, knew he’d been taken out by advice from a chick flick.
Suddenly, I noticed Minelli. He’d come further into the hall and was bending down to pick something up. A small, square, metal box. The hard drive. “Put it down,” I said.
Minelli just looked at me and wrapped it in his handkerchief. “Federal crimes take precedence.”
I rose. “Hand it over, Minelli. Our scene, our evidence.&rdqu...
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