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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
‘Oh darn!’ He shouted the expletive, pushing the drink towards her as he dragged one hand to the front of his shirt and tried unsuccessfully to wipe off the excess liquid. Abigale smiled at him apologetically. ‘Sorry about your shirt. Use some pure lime juice. This will take care of the stain.’
This section of the room was darker. Cigarette smoke was heavy in the air. Abigale could smell alcohol on the breath of a few people who were standing too close to her. Eight men were seated at a round table gambling; those standing behind them were jeering and cheering.
‘Thank y
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