" "To-morrow will be too late," said Sheppard, moodily. Lucy entered the house by picking the back door lock with the slim jim. I did all for the best, I'm sure. Then he sensed the trap. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. If only Gerald would come. “What the hell is going on here, Officer?” He grumbled. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. Friday was not a big dinner night at the Beck house.
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