“Thanks, Rhonda.” Skip ducked through an opening in the counter to get behind the bar again.
“No problem.” Rhonda didn’t see me until I stopped beside Walt. She did a double take, a look of vague recognition crossing her face.
“Kent’s Gym,” I said.
“Oh, yeah. You’re that lawyer, right?”
“Sam McRae. And your name?”
“Rhonda Jacobi.”
“Right, I remember now. Got …
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