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Unformatted text preview: he woman in question. She'd come to the hotel yesterday with the news of the tragic death in Destin-a comely small- waisted woman, with upswept gray hair, and one of the most successful face-lifts he'd seen in recent years, though he figured it was probably not her first one. Eyes bright, cheeks perfectly sculpted, only a little telltale indentation beneath the chin and neck smooth as a young woman's neck. So-it was she and Lightner. He should have figured from the wake; she had clung to Lightner desperately, and several times Lark had seen Lightner kiss her. Lark hoped he'd have that kind of luck when he reached eighty, assuming he would. If he didn't stop hitting the booze, he mightnot make it. "Look," he said now, "if Gifford Mayfair has medical records in this city, I think I can access them through Keplinger, confidentially, with- out disturbing or alerting anyone." Lightner frowned and shook his head as if he thought this most distasteful. "Not again without consent,&qu...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10