Not my idea of fun, but not sexual, not legally. When I was on the streets. I had no idea why we needed the big truck, but murder scenes always attract more people than you really need, more cops, and more civvies, more everything. The first thing you notice about Malcolm is that his short blond curls are the bright yellow of goldfinch feathers.
Familiar faces swam into view, blue eyes, green, blond and red-haired, all like me. I won't talk. I had to come to the far end of the right-hand Dumpster to see the spill of her yellow hair, like a bright exclamation point on the black pavement. It was that quick.
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