Busted and interrogated


I made the score, but the next day they busted us in a motel. [4-223-54] Alberto, the owner of the Hotel Paraiso, had not been expecting guests on the night of August 17th. [31-165-3] I’d been awake now for almost twenty-four hours and without the aid of artificial stimulation, it was a struggle to maintain balance. [28-1-4]
“How did you get the cuts and bruises?” they asked. [16-18-2]
“Never mind about that. [13-10-33] Billie and I are always at one another’s throats.” [8-98-30]
I began to transpire. [5-192-3] Never bull shit a professional. [11-226-22] “That means I had my hands on her, and I was trying to force her out of my bedroom. [3-246-9] Is it all right if I use the phone?” [18-132-20] It was too obvious to be ominous. [20-233-20]

0022 (getting a lawyer)

The Parkinsons withdrew even more as the public pressure mounted. [19-21-5] A Navajo sand painting hung, incongruously, beside a poster of Martin Luther King. [11-115-11] I had their respect because I prayed with them. [26-46-23] They were a combination of the Cleavers, the Nelsons and the Beverly Hillbillies. [28-10-17]
I found myself standing next to Green with no Post-its to remind me what not to say and no script of what I wanted to cover. [20-184-14]
“I’ve just got one question. [13-149-36] Can you get me a lawyer?” [8-132-23]
Fiona stood up and nodded. [2-182-22] “And have you seen the paintings over here?” she asked. [27-66-9]
“Yes; they said you don’t see Lucky around here, do you?” [15-239-34]
Tere kicked off her shoes and sat with her back to the wall. [31-164-24] She looked at me and pulled an Oh yeah, like hell face. [5-45-15]

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