Got One Part 2
Enid Vanderhoff called me one evening not long after I had watched her calmly pump five friable little slugs into her despicable husband. I have no idea how she got my number, but I was aware that she worked for the Company. "I need to see you," she said. I could hear her sigh, more of a snort. "I'm kind of busy," I told her since I had two underage girls in training at the time, and they were scheduled for delivery in about ten days. "I do need your help," she insisted and her voice...