Kenney clicked off ten one-hundred dollar bills, folded them lengthwise, and slipped them so that each numeral was visible: 100, 100, 100, 100 . . .100. He showed them to her. "I want to buy your time, darlin', three hours of it.”
Then her eyes dropped to the bills engulfed in his big hand. Quickly, her eyes flashed back to his, and her smile lost its reservation. “What did you have in mind, Glenn?”
“Nothing special. Just the hours. From seven-fifteen until ten-fifteen on Thursday. That was August twelfth.”
That surprised her. “That was yesterday.”
“Right, it was. And you need to show me where we spent that time.”
“You’re buying an alibi, Glenn.”
“That’s right, also.”
“I can go with that,” she said.
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