The rain in Los Angeles does not wash things clean. It makes everything darker,...
I did not refuse because I was Vera Lane, twenty-two years old and already jaded enough to believe that every man with a story was hiding something worse than the truth. My story was simple: I worked at the Daily Chronicle, I investigated corruption, and I had developed a habit of asking questions that made powerful men uncomfortable. Rick was thirty-seven, which is old when you are twenty-two...
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