Neon Noir: The Erasure
The rain in Los Angeles didn't wash anything away; it only smeared the neon lights into oily puddles of magenta and cyan. Victoria operated out of a converted garage in the Industrial District, her office smelling of stale coffee and old gunpowder. She was a private investigator who specialized in the things people paid to forget. Her partner, Diane, was the face of the operation—a socialite...
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