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35.1

C H A P T E R - - - - T H I R T Y - - - - F I V E

“Not my gig, Ginnie, but those shoes are hot,” Isabelle said through a mouth full of Lina’s Mustard Stand, Vienna beef, Chicago style, chili-cheese hotdog.

Isabelle had always loved Lina's Mustard Stand, so when she escaped the safe house where she was being held under protective custody and spotted my car parked on the street with me inside suffering a mental breakdown, she knew just where she wanted to go. In order to provide her somewhere to eat, we drove to the parking lot after I went to University Belt and purchased her a chili-cheese dog. Isabelle checked to see whether we had a tail the entire way there and back and said we didn't.

That was at least a comfort because I assumed she would be aware.

She was examining the Polaroid of me and Falcone while holding her puppy in one hand and holding it in the other.