. really?”Shit! I hadn’t wanted to make even a micro-expression to let Atticus know how I felt about that. I didn’t want him getting any satisfa...tion from me. But damn, the Caribbean. The man did know me well.“Really, and you’ll be shooting with your friend Dirk McKinley.”My elation dulled somewhat. “So ... you’re making me take on Dirk... again. You need to ... you know ... get me hazard pay or something for agreeing to this.”“You won’t be taking him on alone, as you put it. They want to shoot. I handed her a glass and poured most of the can into it.“Aren’t you having one to drink Shailu?” she asked.“No,” I replied, “that’s the only one; I’ll have a glass of water in a minute.”She sipped from her glass and then offered it to me, “We will share,” she said. I took the glass, which had a slight smear of her lipstick, and drank some before handing it back. There was something somehow slightly intimate in this simple exchange, a touch of the hand, a shared shy smile; we were getting close. -That's the muscles to engage. All day, every day. Do it now.She stood a little taller. -I'm doing it. She said. -Check, press and cough. Next, I brought over the piano stool and had her practice sitting down and standing up without using her hands and she seemed to be getting the mastery of it, -Keep those abs engaged. I warned.-How do you feel? I asked her, standing still in front of me now.-I dunno, she said, -I feel like I'm on show, but I feel like I'm doing well... uh, I know. The fault for the accident lies directly on the cab driver. No question about it. He was drunk, and from what we've learned he's a hopeless alcoholic. We found an empty pint of vodka under the seat in the cab. Vodka and gin are the favored beverages of those alcoholics that are trying to function on the job. It doesn't leave much of an odor on the breath although it does leave a little. Our officers smelled it right away when they questioned him. They took a blood sample from him at the.