Perhaps he had developed a drug problem and needed to fund his habit? Connie hopes so; it would certainly mean she would see more of him. What was it about him? The sense of extreme danger and absolute safety in the same man? Or just the looks? There is a rattling knock on the metal lockup door. Connie adjusts her hair, spits her gum into an old filing cabinet, and lights a menthol cigarette. Here we go.
