A small town like Winslow probably didn't have but a couple house niggers, maybe one or two freeborn families, but I doubted it. I was probably pretty...much alone in that place.There was a black girl inside though, a secretary it looked like, smallish and quiet, typing at a neatly arranged desk and she blinked at me, but that was all. A deputy was behind the front counter, a white woman about thirty years old maybe and talking on the phone. She'd been the one I'd talked to on the telephone, I. "What's up, hun?" Denise asked.Lissa shrugged, but then quickly took a seat across the table from us and leaned forward with another conspiratorial grin on her face."I forgot that I have to give you your little task for this hour, too," she said to her mom, almost giggling.Denise looked a little embarrassed, glanced sideways at me and back to her daughter. "Um, ok?" she prompted."So, I think you should do it, right here at the table," Lissa commanded, with a triumphant tone."With Jason sitting. More

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