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'I know she's in there,' Lula said. 'I can hear her talking, doing business.'
Lowanda did phone ######. She didn't look like she was rolling in money, so I was guessing she wasn't all that good at the job. Or maybe she just spent her money on beer,
grey ugg boots, cigarettes, and chicken nuggets. Lowanda ate a lot of chicken nuggets. Lowanda ate chicken nuggets like Carol Cantell ate Cheez Doodles.
I knocked again and tried the doorknob. The door wasn't locked.
I held the door open a crack,
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'Not likely Banker's in here,' Lula said, following me through the front door. 'The door would be locked up. And anyway,
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We stepped over a suspicious stain on the rug and stared into the jumbled mess that passed for Lowanda's home. There was a mattress on the floor in the far corner of the living room. The mattress was covered with a tattered yellow chenille spread. An open, empty pizza delivery box was on the floor by the mattress.
Clothes and shoes were scattered everywhere. A couple rickety folding chairs had been set up in the living room. The backs of the chairs said 'Morten's Funeral Parlor.' A big brown leather recliner had been placed in front of the television. The recliner had a gayilai：
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