A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. ‘Did you see the man?’ Gerald asked. I would be the kidnapper, of course, but we would forge ransom notes and exchange monies so that it appeared you were taken by brigands or plotters against the Iovelli family. “Is Coke okay?” He asked as he pulled into the gas station. He was profoundly stirred.
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