Phillip told us, “The Union Square Cafe turned around the 14th Street Business District. It was grunge and whores and open-air drug marts.”Now it�...�s Chelsea.Back home, well Matt’s condo was, sort of, my DC home, he smiled at me, “The Whitaker Fund. It’s Connie’s brainchild. Another attempt to decipher the Meriwether puzzle.”“Okay.”“You wouldn’t have heard of South-Carolina Connover. No reason to. He’s ... slick. Clever.”Not compliments, not judging from Matt’s tone.He smiled at me and his sad,. “Yes,” he answered, “mine was awfully good too.”“So what do we do now?” I asked, puzzled.“Well, we could sit here and howl at the moon,” he replied“Or?” I prompted.“Or we could transport back to the house and behave like normal people,” he told me.“Howl first, transport later,” I replied.We both sat up, threw back our heads, and howled for all we were worth. “AAA AAA-ROOO”. A short time later in the following silence, we heard some other creature, a dog or coyote probably, return our howl very. More

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