“Did he say anything? Did you talk?” “No, he was texting the whole time.” “Ok, who else? Who was the second fare?” Griff shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He shouldn’t have told her about the money. He should’ve hidden it in the back of the closet or opened a safety deposit box. “Who was the second fare you picked up, Griff?” she asked again, her voice louder, sharper. “A guy at Gray’s Place, that crappy little bar in Kenmore,” Griff answered. “The bartender called for him. He was too drunk to drive. He sang Christmas carols the whole ride.” “Where did you take him?” “Not far. Just in Kenmore. He paid me in crumpled dollar bills. I don’t think he had five grand in his pocket, hon.” Val’s eyes narrowed to hard, green points. “It could have been his Christmas bonus, Griff. Who was the third?” “An older lady, like a grandmother,” Griff answered, knowing Val would never let this go now. “She hailed me down on Niagara Street. She was trying to walk home from the supermarket and got caught in the storm. She was lucky I came along. She barely had enough to pay me. There wasn’t any tip.” “Does she live on Niagara Street?” Griff nodded. “Next to that Korean grocery. I had to walk her in because it was snowing so bad. She was afraid of falling.
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