I feel the bark of the tree and smile at the sunlight in my face. I wish Cypress would have taken me on a nice picnic. Just once. I decide to get th...s over with, and stalk over to Mickey, fingering the knife in my pocket. It’s just a butter knife – no good for slashing his throat. But one fatal stab, perhaps. ‘Look at you,’ he says, looking up at me from his knees. ‘You look happy.’ I can only smile back, ‘I am happy,’ before I stab him in the eye. He doesn’t even look surprised as he. The receptionist frowned. "I don't recognise the name. Hold on, I'll just check our records." She tapped at her computer for a few moments. "No, I'm sorry. I have no record of a Doctor Kingston."Paul's heart missed a beat. "When did he leave? Did he give a forwarding address?"The receptionist shook her head. "If your friend had worked here he would be in our records. But we have never employed anyone by that name."Paul was certain he had come to the right place and he knew Kingston had at least. “Seriously, don’t tell anyone, especially my friends, about us.”“Yeah, yeah, I know.” I took a sip. “We already covered this stuff. I just want the ‘checking in’ to end, you know?”She shrugged. “I don’t know if it will. My friends can be… kind of jealous.”I cocked my head. “What, like they want to sleep with you?”“Ew, no!” She made a repulsed face. “I just mean, we have a thing. We don’t like people from outside our thing coming into our thing.”“And the less popular the person, the more they. That double column there," he said putting his index finger at the starting point. "Read it out loud." 'There was a near riot in the dining room of the Oglethorpe Hotel last evening as diners recognized one among them who has long been absent from our fair city but obviously not from the hearts of fellow diners. When our own Samantha Lauderdale now Thompson was recognized sitting with her nephew Jameson Lauderdale, of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, who was in town for the funeral of his Aunt,.