“I'm looking for Detective James.” she said with timidness. Even so, the woman sounded too
proper to be from Cleveland. At least Dalton's side of the city, which often saw grown men
fighting over the last bite of a Polish Dog from Quincy's Bar and Grill. Where the only thing
thicker than cigarette smoke were the bars on the windows.
“That'd be me,” Dalton replied. “What can I do for you?”