Chapter 45: A Bird in the Hand

Daryl had all of the hallmarks of a lobbyist: well-groomed, short hair, strong chin. In the picture that Greg sent me, Daryl held his head at a slight angle and his smirk said, “I’m better than you, but we can still pretend to be friends.”

It was getting late enough that I figured any hoity-toity event that Daryl was attending would have ended. He would be home now unless he found some floozy. I headed back to his place, moseying along. I developed a concept of a plan while I walked, and it wo...