Chapter 2
A few days later when Lathe happened to glance down at his desk, he saw the dime he had offered Anjelo peeking out from beneath a stack of papers as if it were hiding. When he picked it up and held it in his palm, he pictured Anjelo dressed in that god-awful lace outfit he wore.
He missed his angel, and wondered if he’d found the bodyguard he was looking for.
A shadow of worry crossed his face. Where was he? Was he in trouble? Hell, the kid didn’t have a brain in his head. Walking around in this neighborhood dressed in lace was the height of stupidity. Finally throwing the dime down, he tried to continue with what he was doing, but his gaze always crept back to the dime and stared at it while cursing himself for not getting some kind of information on Anjelo. An address, a tel
