Status Updates From Brush Back (V.I. Warshawski...

Two checks fluttered out. Mine would buy me a very nice little car indeed. I wrote Mr. Villard a thank-you note, then sat daydreaming in front of car websites. Muscle car or getting-around-town car? This is not an unusual ending for VI: a big check after she didn’t get paid for her latest adventure. A death defying adventure, of course

The circulation was starting to go in my hands. I would have been worried about them, except I was more worried that I was going to die soon. I curled and uncurled my fingers. My wrists scraped against the rope.

It looked like fun. Only then, when I saw the pictures, I knew this Annie, she must have left her diary here. I would have done that.” Of course she would have. She was seventeen, with a high sense of adventure and a low sense of consequences.

“Criminals always have a reason for breaking the law—usually because they think they’re better than the people whose lives they’re destroying.” “You cut a wide swath yourself, Warshawski, so careful who you sling mud at.” He hung up.

“And—I know caution is foreign to your nature, but Victoria—please!” She didn’t say anything else, not the words of anger or fear she sometimes gives after an injury. Somehow that made the encounter more painful.

“Joel and the man he briefly slept with, Joel and the crush he had on the murdered woman, the old law partner and the money he gave her. And then that mother! It sounds as though all she’s thought about for sixty years is sex. I know that kind of woman—

He laughed again, clapped my shoulder and went into his office. I stared after him thoughtfully, wondering what that conversation had been about. And the meeting itself—it had seemed like a chance encounter, but it was odd that he’d stopped to talk to me.

WHIFFING THE CURVE the title of this book causes me to think of baseball and the husband we meet once was thought to have a baseball career many years ago. A career that never happened. We’ll see how baseball comes into play!

“Don’t you tell me what to do or not to do. I didn’t take shit from guards and wardens and bitches of drug dealers all those years to come home and take it from a Warshawski.”

She stared at me, frowning as she tried to connect me to my adolescent face. “The whore’s daughter.” “Good to see you, too, Stella,” I said. So Frank hadn’t had the guts to tell her I was coming. (Another older woman with distressingly, rough language, just like in the last book!)

Another book in the series that I never read. Two in a row. Surprising myself! In my nearly 79 year-old memory, I had read them all. In this one VI once again goes back to her roots in South Chicago.

Jake shadowboxed me. “Then why bother? From the sound, you don’t owe him or Medea anything. And it’s not like you have any real ties to South Chicago anymore.”