"Hello, Mr. Kline," she said. I looked her up and down."Do I know you?" I said."Alas, no," she said. "But, I know you, well, of you. I also know your ...ife. The name's Kimble, Diane Kimble." I nodded my understanding."What can I do for you Ms. Kimble?" I said. Her look was—what—purposeful. I had the feeling that she was no kind of friend, but I wasn't sure. She was pretty and engaging. Women like her would always get the benefit of the doubt, sure as hell from me."I have some information for. I made my way back out into the club, the blaring music still thumping and the rowdy crowd on the dance floor jumping and yelling. I glanced to see that the booth where John and his friends had sat was empty, and my heart sank a tiny bit. That is until I spotted John standing at the bar, apparently ordering a drink. I kept my cool and confidently strutted back to the bar. I found an empty stool several seats down from him, careful not to get obviously close to where John was standing. I got the. More

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