“What can I say?" He motions to the distressed sedan. "I drive this piece of shit to compensate for my huge dick.”

“Know this, Tabby, I lose you, it would be sixty years of goin' through the motions. I know that in my dick. I know it in my gut. I know it in my heart. I know it deep down in my goddamned soul”

“What good is having a friend who's a cop if he won't give me inside information?""So you can ask him to look at a piece of shit pistol after you've already bought it, and pronounce it a piece of shit.”

“My heart, for unknown reasons, seems to freeze in motion in my chest. I can see he senses it and he holds his pause to enjoy my suffering, prolonging my ignorance. “Viktor, what?”

“On the drive up here, I saw a goose," he says. "A Canada goose. Fred told me they shit something horrible. They migrate between the north and the south, don't they? Like seniors.”

“It's a McLaren SLR 722 Roadster.""How big is it?""It's a convertible.""Will a tiger fit?""No. It seats only two, but the boys are man half the day now.""Is it more than $30,000?"He squirmed and hedged, "Yes, but-""How much more?""Much more.""How much more?""About $400,000 more."My mouth dropped open. "Mr. Kadam!""Miss Kelsey, I know it's extravagant, but when you drive it, you will see it's worth every cent."I folded my hands across my chest. "I won't drive it."He looked offended. "That car was meant to be driven.""Then you drive it. I'll drive the Jeep."He looked tempted. "If it will appease you, perhaps we can share it."Kishan clapped his hands. "I can't wait."Mr. Kadam wagged a finger at him. "Oh, no! Not you. We'll get you a nice sedan. Used.”