“You play better than any Italian I know! I wish I had a son or grandson like you. Larry is a good boy, but is not interested in anything but his st...dies. My sons have their own lives. My hope is that Joyce or Connie marry a young man like you.”That more or less answered my unspoken question from before. I wondered about Connie’s boyfriend, because he was Italian. Joyce, to my knowledge, hadn’t dated any Italian guys, so I wondered if he was hinting something to me. He might be, but Joyce and I. You really want me to go? You should go. He started to walk away again, heading further into the apartment toward his bedroom. Riley wait! Before I could stop myself, I ran forward toward him, grabbing him by the elbow. Please dont walk away from me. You cant tell me youre not mad if youre walking away from me right now. He pulled himself from my grasp. Im not mad. I grabbed him once again, promising myself that this would be my last attempt. Then what is going on? With no warning, he grabbed. She suddenly comes out with it, as if it is an addendum to her last comment, ‘But, Michael … what is a … ‘spinner’? I overheard Jake use that expression …his voice carries … and you chuckled when he said it. So what does that mean Michael … does it have anything to do with why you asked me out?’ ‘Wow, that’s a lot of questions from a very curious little girl!’ I say, buying some time to form an answer to her main question. I decide that leveling with her is best, even if it cost me her. On the metal slab next to the one Saema would soon occupy lay the bloated and aromatic corpse of Elizabeth Laseter - a 43-year-old black-haired woman who had died of a massive heart attack while on the toilet in her home and who remained undiscovered for several days. Her pale, slightly marbled hands and feet were tied together, likely as part of the transport procedure from the local morgue, with two toe-tags dangling from her right big-toe and another from her left, the nails of which were.