Pierre (that was his name) had been very closely attentive to Em over dinner. Ambrose had told her later he felt a bit like a Parisian sidewalk deposi...; a necessary but fundamentally unhelpful part of the ambiance. Dinner finished, Pierre then suggested they drive two blocks to a nice little nightclub he knew where they did a very hot floorshow and had some very pretty girls. They could spend a couple of hours there and then go back to their hotel by taxi if they wished. Ambrose was sure. Gas was easy and cheaper than in Gulfport, where only a few stations had reopened. Groceries were just about as easy, with Catalina getting a few things of her own. There was a laundromat in the same shopping center, so Roger left Catalina there with the dirty clothes and sleeping bag while he drove to a dump station he'd learned about the week before. It didn't take him long to get back to the laundromat, where he found Catalina keeping an eye on things and feeding quarters to the various. “Come in.” she heard through the door. “DA Spencer,” she said, greeting him with her hand extended. “Rebecca.” “I remember, Ms. Johnson. I hired you. I don’t seem that far removed from the fray, do I?” His barely glanced at her as her continued signing ledgers. “Uh,” Thrown off a bit, Rebecca scrambled to recover. “No, sir, I just didn’t want to presume you remembered me. I just made it onto the Spinelli case.” “Yes, that. Brody Anderson is your boss. Talk to him.” “Yes sir. I wanted to point. They had a list for each room of what pictures and mirrors were to be hung where. The man, and the recently turned seventeen year old boy, were dutifully hanging pictures and mirrors, while practicing the manly art of complaining about women shopping as they worked.Blake walked to the door and, as Caleb and his Grandpa had taught him, worked with his Companion to check beyond the door before opening it."Caleb, Aaron says there are some government men outside," Blake reported, connecting to his.