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use the money to buy endangered houses, then resell them?aat a loss, if necessary?ato people who would sign a
pledge to begin restoration within eighteen months. The foundation set a goal of $200,000 for the fund, enough
money in those days to save a lot of houses if they were turned over quickly enough. And they were.
“But even with the revolving fund, it was a struggle,” said Adler. “I’d come downtown every day and breathe in
the air and plot out the day’s fight. And it was indeed a fight,silkroad power leveling, because the buildings were still coming down pretty
fast. Sometimes we won. Sometimes we lost. And the voters of Savannah gave us no help at all. They rejected
urban renewal three times because they thought it was a communist plot,rs gold, and they defeated any number of
proposals for historic-zoning ordinances. That monstrosity over there, for instance,runescape power leveling, was one of our biggest losses.
The Hyatt Regency Hotel.”
We were riding along Bay Street, passing in front of the Hyatt?aa squat, modernist building next to City Hall.
The Hyatt had been a great cause celebre in Savannah. The building had taken a great chunk out of the row of
nineteenth-century cotton warehouses along Factors’ Walk, and its backside jutted out over River Street,
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interrupting the line of facades along the riverfront. The public battle over the hotel delayed its construction for
ten years.
“You can see the hotel is all wrong for the site,” said Adler. “We fought it in the courts, and let me tell you it was
a bruising battle. Both of the developers were members of Historic Savannah Foundation. The sister of one of
them was the acting director. The organization was split right down the middle. Practically destroyed. It was a
very emotional time. I remember going to a wedding while all that was happening, and when I walked in I
realized I was suing everybody in the room but the bride and the minister.”
At about that time, restoration of the historic district was nearing completion. Over a thousand houses had been
restored. The work had been done by affluent whites, but Adler insisted that blacks had not been displaced.
Historic Savannah was buying empty buildings for the most part. But when the supply of unrestored houses in
the historic district began to dwindle, the next logical step was to restore the houses in the neighboring Victorian
district. And that would have been a different story.
We drove south on Abercorn Street. Within a few blocks, the restrained architecture of the historic district gave
way to late-Victorian flights of fancy?abig old wooden houses with romantic towers, gables, and elaborate
gingerbread trim. A few were restored, but most were in very poor condition.
The Victorian district was Savannah’s first streetcar suburb. It had been built for the white working class between
1870 and 1910. After World War II, when the whites moved farther out into the suburbs,silkroad gold, absentee landlords took
over, and by 1975 the area had become a black slum. The houses were in deplorable shape, but they were still
beautiful, and in recent years speculators and upper-income whites started buying them. At that point, Adler
became alarmed. “It would have meant gentrification and massive displacement of blacks,” he said, “and I was
determined to prevent that. I asked Historic Savannah to help find a way to restore this area without evicting the

Adler pulled over to the curb on Oglethorpe Avenue in front of Colonial Cemetery. Across the street stood a
handsome row of four brick townhouses, each with a stoop of white marble steps leading up to the main entrance
on the second floor. The bricks were a muted, grayish red. “There they are,” he said, “fully restored. When I
came to look at them that day,cheap shaiya money, the windows were out, the doors were gone, and the steps were in bad shape. The
bricks from the carriage houses were piled up in the backyard. I went into one of the houses and climbed up to
the third floor and looked out at the magnificent view. And I thought, ‘This can’t be allowed to happen.’ ”
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Adler paid a call on old Mr. Monroe, the wrecker, and told him he wanted to buy the whole row. Mr. Monroe
told him he could get the bricks to him in six weeks. “I don’t want you to touch those bricks!” Adler replied. “I
want you to leave them right where they are.” Mr. Monroe agreed, but said Adler would have to buy the land too;
he could have the whole row, bricks and land, for $54,000. So Adler and three other men signed a note for it.
Then they wrote a prospectus and took it to Historic Savannah Foundation, which had three hundred members at
the time, proposing that the foundation buy the row?aat a cost of $180 a member. “My idea,” said Adler,runescape gold, “was
that the foundation would resell the houses to people who would agree to restore them. Historic Savannah went
along with it.” That was the beginning of the revolving fund.
It happened that the poet Conrad Aiken had lived as a child in the house right next to Marshall Row?aat number
228, the house in which Aiken’s father had shot his mother and then himself on that terrible morning in February
1901. Having spent most of his life up north, Aiken wanted to come back and live his last years in Savannah. So
a millionaire friend, a man named Hy Sobiloff, bought and restored the house on the end of Marshall Row for
Aiken and his wife,runescape money, Mary. It was number 230, the house next door to the one Aiken had lived in as a boy.
“When work was completed on the house,” said Adler,buy warcraft gold, “the contrast between it and the other three was startling.
I went to the phone and called the newspaper and said, ‘Do you want to see a miracle? Come on!’ So they came
over, and they did a big feature on it in their Sunday edition. That was in February 1962. We had an open house
the day the story appeared. It rained, but something like seven thousand people came through the house. They
wore the shellac off the banister. We let them go into the unrestored house next door, too, for a before-and-after
comparison. And they saw for the first time how a dilapidated wreck could be transformed into something
marvelous. When that happened, we started to get some interest. People began to see the potential. They began to
think about moving back downtown. Of course, it didn’t hurt one bit that Savannah’s greatest man of letters, a
Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, was leading the way.”
We resumed our drive. Adler pointed out dozens of houses that had been saved, describing in detail their once-
fallen condition. “The porch on that one was completely gone . . . that house had bright green asbestos siding and
aluminum awnings . . . the roof on that one was rotted through. …” He was like a doctor reviewing the case
histories of former patients, now fully recovered.
Adler’s success with Marshall Row encouraged him to go out and raise money for a revolving fund to be used by
Historic Savannah to save other houses in the same way. The concept was very simple: Historic Savannah would

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nothing but hard-packed dirt instead of grass and azaleas and beautiful landscaping. Because that’s the way it
used to be. That’s why Lady Astor called Savannah ‘a beautiful woman with a dirty face’ when she came here
after the Second World War. That’s what Savannah had allowed itself to become. And what’s frightening is that
while it was happening, nobody gave one goddamn.”
A truck behind us honked its horn. Adler pulled over to let it pass, then kept moving at a slow pace, continuing
the story of Savannah’s decline. Until the 1920s,runescape money, he said, Savannah had remained basically intact?aan
architecturally exquisite nineteenth-century town. But the flight to the suburbs was just then beginning. People
moved out of the lovely old houses downtown. They cut them into apartments, tore them down,cheap shaiya money, or just boarded
them up and left them empty. In those days all the money was being funneled into the development of the
suburbs,buy warcraft gold, which was fortunate for Savannah in one respect: It meant there was no clamor to bulldoze massive
areas downtown for housing developments. Nor did Savannah have superhighways slicing through the center of
it the way other cities did, because Savannah was not on the way to somewhere else. It was geographically the
end of the line.
In the mid-1950s, almost a third of the old city was gone. Then in 1954, the owners of a funeral parlor
announced plans to knock down a dilapidated tenement so they could use the space for a parking lot, and a
number of concerned citizens rose up in protest. The tenement happened to be Davenport House, one of the
finest examples of Federal architecture in America. It was a shambles at the time; eleven families were crowded
into it. Seven ladies got together, Lee Adler’s mother being one of them, and saved Davenport House and
restored it. They then formed the Historic Savannah Foundation, and that was the beginning of Savannah’s
salvation.
In the early days, Historic Savannah had a vigilante committee that sounded the alarm when an old house was
about to be demolished. But the committee had no power to prevent demolition of houses, or even to gain a stay
of execution. All it could do was try to find some sympathetic soul who would buy the endangered building and
restore it. Most of the time the house came down before the committee could find anybody to save it. It soon
became clear that the only way to save old houses was to buy them. And that was when Lee Adler became
involved.
“I was having breakfast one morning,” he said. “It was December of 1959. I read in the newspaper that a row of
four townhouses on Oglethorpe Avenue was about to be torn down. They were lovely. Built in 1855. They were
known as the Mary Marshall Row. It was the same old story: A local wrecker had bought the houses in order to
knock them down and sell the bricks. The bricks! You see, they’re Savannah gray bricks, which are larger and
more porous than ordinary bricks, and they have a very soft and beautiful color. They were kilned at the
Hermitage Plantation on the Savannah River. They’re not made anymore, and you can’t duplicate them. They
were selling for ten cents each at the time,wow power leveling, more than three times the cost of an ordinary brick. Anyhow, the
wrecker had already demolished the carriage houses, and the townhouses themselves would be gone in a matter
of days.”

forgotten to turn out the light behind himself and was silhouetted in the window. Williams saw him, waved, and
drew his shutters.
In spite of all this, there were restraining factors that kept the two men on a civil footing most of the time. Lee
Adler was Leopold Adler II, the grandson of the founder of Adler’s department store, Savannah’s answer to Saks
Fifth Avenue, and his mother was a niece of Julius Rosenwald of the Sears Roebuck fortune. Emma Adler was
the sole heir to the biggest block of stock in the Savannah Bank. She had been president of the Junior League and
was an active member of several civic organizations. So, the reality of the situation was that both Jim Williams
and the Adlers were prominent, influential, and rich. They lived in such close proximity and moved in so many
of the same circles that they felt obliged to remain on cordial terms. Which was why, despite his loathing for
them, Jim Williams always invited the Adlers to his Christmas parties. And why, even though they detested
Williams in return, the Adlers always accepted.
Early one bright April morning, Lee Adler came toward me with a broad smile on his face and an arm
outstretched in greeting. “Shake the hand that’s going to shake the hand of the Prince of Wales!” he said.
Mr. Adler was making a jocular reference to an article in the morning paper announcing that he and his wife
would be traveling to Washington at the end of the week to meet Prince Charles of England. The Adlers and the
prince were to participate in a discussion of low-income housing. Adler assumed I had read the article, and of
course I had. Most of Savannah had read it, and to judge from Mr. Adler’s ebullient mood, he either did not know
or did not care what certain people were saying about it.
“It’s just another of Leopold’s cheap, self-promotional ploys,” Jim Williams said. But the rolling of eyes and
clearing of throats was not limited to people who disliked Lee Adler. Katherine Gore, a lifelong friend of the
Adlers, also found the news distasteful. “I would like to meet Prince Charles too,flyff money,” she said, “but I would never
stoop so low to do it. Low-income housing, indeed!”
Adler and I were standing in Adler’s office on the ground floor of his townhouse. This was the command post
from which he directed his many projects in real estate and historic preservation. A telephone rang in another
room. Somewhere a copy machine churned. The walls of his office were decorated with memorabilia of Adler’s
role in the remarkable renaissance of Savannah’s historic district. The photographs documented parallel
transformations that had taken place over the past twenty-five years: Savannah regaining the splendor of its
youth and a youthful Lee Adler progressing by stages into silver-haired middle age.
Adler wore half-moon glasses and a pale, rumpled summer suit. His speech was a soft,buy star trek credits, cajoling drawl. We had
met a week earlier at a garden party given by a local historian,cheap flyff penya, and Adler had offered to take me on a tour of
Savannah to show me, stage by stage, how Savannah had been saved from the wrecker’s ball. As we got into his
car, he let me know he was aware of all the carping going on behind his back.
“Do you know what the saying for the day is?” he asked. ” ‘It ain’t braggin’ if y’really done it!’ ” He gave me a
meaningful glance over the top of his glasses, as if to say: Never mind all the backbiting you’ve been hearing. It’s
sour grapes.
We pulled away from the curb and began moving through the streets at ten miles an hour. As we did, the visual
treasures of Savannah flowed by in slow motion?atownhouses, mansions, shadowed gardens, well-tended
squares.
“Picture all of this deserted and empty,” said Adler. “Imagine it run-down?awindows broken, weatherboards
unpainted and rotting,flyff money, shutters falling off, roofs caving in. Think what the squares would look like if they were

The Adlers lived in an elegant double townhouse that occupied the other of the two trust lots on the west side of
Monterey Square. Their side windows looked directly across Wayne Street at Williams’s parlor and the ballroom
above. It was the Adlers’ howling dog that had prompted Williams to play his thunderous version of Cesar
Franck’s “Piece Heroique” on the organ. But the dog’s bark was only one sour note in a whole medley of
bitterness that existed between the two households.
Lee Adler,buy rs gold, like Jim Williams,buy warcraft gold, had played a central role in the restoration of Savannah’s historic downtown. His
approach was entirely different, however. While Williams’s efforts had involved his own restoration of houses,
Adler had been an organizer and fund-raiser who left the actual restoration work to others. Adler had helped
create a revolving fund for the purpose of buying old houses that were in imminent danger of being razed; the
houses were then sold as soon as possible to people who promised to restore them properly. Lee Adler’s
accomplishments had been so successful, and his participation so energetic, that he had emerged as a national
spokesman for revolving funds and historic preservation. In recent years he had turned his attention to renovating
old houses for poor blacks. He toured the country making speeches. He was elected to the board of the National
Trust for Historic Preservation. He lunched at the White House. His name appeared frequently in The New York
Times and in national magazines. Now in his mid-fifties,rohan crone, Lee Adler was probably the best-known Savannahian
outside Savannah.
Lee Adler’s national prominence inspired a fair amount of resentment in Savannah. It was widely felt, in
Savannah at least, that Adler’s manner was bombastic and peremptory, that he was an autocrat, and that he
stepped on toes needlessly. He was accused, openly and behind his back, of taking more credit than was really
due him for the renaissance of Savannah. It was said that he hogged the limelight, that he was insincere, and that
his only interest in historic preservation was to use it as a means to gain fame and make money. Jim Williams
was among those who felt this way about him.
Adler and Williams were outwardly civil, but just barely. Adler had been a member of the Telfair museum’s
board of directors when Jim Williams was president,cheap runescape money, and from time to time their animosity spilled out into the
open at board meetings. On one occasion, Adler accused Williams of stealing furniture from the museum.
Williams denied it and countercharged that Adler was trying to blacken the name of anyone who had more
power over the museum’s affairs than he did. Eventually, Williams engineered a plot that forced Adler off the
board, and Adler never forgave him.
Williams was contemptuous of virtually everything about Lee Adler?ahis taste in art, his word of honor, even his
house. A visitor once rang Williams’s doorbell by mistake and asked if Mr. Adler was at home. Williams told the
man, “Mr. Adler doesn’t live here. He lives in half the double house next door.”
Lee Adler was no less disparaging of Williams. He believed him to be fundamentally dishonest and said so.
Furthermore, he suspected the Nazi flag episode was more than a lighthearted attempt to foil a crew of
moviemakers. He let it be known that a letter addressed to Williams from the John Birch Society had once been
delivered to his house. Adler was critical of Jim Williams’s “decadent” life-style, but he was just curious enough
about it to get out his binoculars and spy on one of Williams’s all-male Christmas parties. Adler had clumsily
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landed with more force, but Danny had floored the accelerator at the same moment and swung sharply onto
Abercorn Street, throwing her against the door and out of reach. They roared south on Abercorn, swerving from
lane to lane, passing one car after another. It was getting dark.
Corinne cowered as far away from him as she could get. Her cheek felt numb. “Please take me home,buy rose zulie,” she
pleaded.
“When I’m goddamn good and ready,” he snapped.
They sped south. Two miles, three miles, five miles. They sailed past the Mall, past Armstrong State College.
Corinne felt dizzy. She could think only of Danny’s death wish and that now he would kill them both. Surely the
vodka, the pina coladas, and the marijuana had taken their toll. He would drive off the road; he would slam into
another car. She was frightened just looking at him: He was so utterly changed. His jaw was set. A diabolical fire
lit his eyes. He held the wheel in a ferocious grip. It all seemed like a horrible, surreal nightmare. Suddenly, his
image began to flicker before her eyes?athe back of his head, his shoulders, his arms, his face,runescape gold, his whole body?a
as if caught in the beam of a stroboscopic light. She was about to lose consciousness when she heard sirens. It
was the police.
The rage drained out of Danny as quickly as it had flared up. He lifted his foot off the gas and pulled over onto
the shoulder. Three squad cars quickly hemmed him in, blue lights flashing. The crackle of two-way radios filled
the air. The policemen shouted at Danny and ordered him out of the car. He turned imploringly to Corinne, his
face once again sweet, his voice childlike. “Get me out of this,warcraft gold, will you?”
They did not see each other again after that. Corinne was still shaken by their encounter months later when she
told me about it in Clary’s drugstore. She had made mistakes before, she said, and she would make them again.
But not like this, she hoped. She had watched Danny from afar for months?astudied him, worshiped him, stalked
him. In all that time, it never entered her mind that he might turn out to be so volatile. She had thought of him
only as a walking streak of sex, and about that, at least, she had not been wrong.
Chapter 1O
IT AIN’T BRAGGIN’ IF Y’REALLY DONE IT
On the whole, the thirty-odd residents of Monterey Square regarded their neighbor Jim Williams with a
respectful friendliness. Several were on his Christmas-party invitation list. Others were more wary and kept their
distance. Virginia Duncan, who lived with her husband in a townhouse on Taylor Street, for example,buy rose zuly, still
remembered the chill she felt when she came out of her house two years ago and saw the swastika hanging from
Williams’s window. John C. Lebey, a retired architect, had fought a number of acrimonious battles with
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Williams, all concerning what Williams described as Lebey’s “destructive incompetence” in matters of
architecture and historic preservation. So Mr. Lebey had no use for Jim Williams. But the Lebey-Williams feud
was a mere quibble compared with the cold war that raged between Williams and his next-door neighbors, Lee
and Emma Adler.

began to moan,cheap rappelz money, louder and louder. Suddenly, he clapped his hand over her mouth and froze, motionless. Startled,
she looked up and saw that he had lifted his head; he was peering out through the bushes. She could feel his heart
pounding. He lay absolutely still, not moving a muscle. She heard voices. People were approaching. She turned
her head and saw several pairs of legs walking along a path that would bring them to within a few feet of where
they lay. She and Danny were only partly covered by the bushes. If the people looked in their direction as they
passed, they would surely see them. She heard a middle aged woman speaking in a complaining voice.
“Perpetual care means just what it says. It means taking care of things in perpetuity. Like pulling out weeds and
sweeping up debris. Forever. I’m going to stop at the guardhouse and have a word with the groundskeeper before
we leave.”
They were twenty feet away now and coming closer. A man’s voice replied. “They do a pretty fair job compared
to most places. Anyhow, I can’t imagine Granny minds a few weeds or a couple of twigs lying around.”
“Well, I do mind,” the woman persisted. “And I want to know that when I’m laid to rest, someone will tend the
plot in perpetuity, as they’ve been paid to do.”
The legs were walking right by them now. Corinne held her breath. “Suit yourself,rose online zulie,” said the man. “We’ll wait for
you in the car.”
They had passed. They had not noticed. Danny relaxed his grip on Corinne’s mouth and resumed having sex as
easily as if he were picking up a conversation dropped in mid-sentence. Corinne was swept away by his staying
power and by his ability throughout the entire terrifying interruption to maintain a rock-hard erection.
On the way back to the car he walked with a spring in his step. Corinne took his hand in hers. She had rescued
him from morbid thoughts, and that pleased her. He was moody, all right,rose online zulie, but what did that matter? She had
found the perfect sexual playmate. He was aglow, and she was aglow?abut for very different reasons, as she
discovered when he turned to her in the car and asked, “Will you marry me?”
She was not so much taken aback as surprised at the absurdity of it. “But we just met three hours ago!” she said.
She started to laugh, but she realized almost at once, when she saw his expression suddenly turn grim, that his
offer had been heartfelt. She had wounded him.
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“You’re gonna marry one of them two assholes at the beach, aren’t you?” he said softly.
“No,cheap world of warcraft gold,” she said. “I don’t know them well enough either.”
“Sure you do. They got money. They got an education. What else do you need to know?”
She had hurt him deeply, and she was crushed. She was touched that he was so desperate to be loved. “I had a
wonderful time today,” she said gently. “I really did. I?a”
“But you won’t marry me. You’ll never marry me.”
She struggled for words. “Well, but I … I certainly want to see you again. I mean, we can get together often and,
you know, we can?a”
She did not see the back of his hand coming at her until it struck her a glancing blow on the cheek. It would have

“Bein’ dead.”
“That’s horrible!” she said. “No,rs money, come on, really.”
“I told you. I think about dyin’ and bein’ dead. What do you think about?”
“I think how peaceful it is. I think what a wonderful place this is to come to and escape from everything, to just
cool out and relax and enjoy the serenity. But I never think about dead people. Looking at these old graves
makes me think how generation after generation of the same family are all gathered together. And that makes me
think about how life goes on, but not about dying. I never think about dying.”
“Well,flyff money, I do,” said Danny. “I even think about what kind of grave I’m gonna be buried in. Like, see them big ol’
tombstones over there? They belong to rich people. And see them other ones there?athe little ones? Those are for
poor people. If I die in Mercer House, I’ll get to have one of the big ones.”
“What a creepy thing to say.”
“Jim Williams is rich,” said Danny. “He’d buy me a big tombstone.” There was nothing joking or boastful in
Danny’s voice. He was simply speaking his mind.
“But you’re not getting ready to die, are you?”
“Why not? I ain’t got nothin’ to live for.”
“Everybody has something to live for,” she said.
“Not if they’re fucked up like me.”
Corinne sat down on the moss-encrusted pedestal of a tall obelisk. She took Danny’s hand and pulled him toward
her. He sat
down next to her. “We all have problems,” she said, “but we don’t go around bumming people out talking about
dying.”
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“I’m different,” said Danny. “I been on the street since I was fifteen. I quit school in the eighth grade. My family
hates me. Bonnie, my girlfriend,flyff money, won’t marry me, ’cause I ain’t got a full-time job.”
“So you’d rather be dead, huh?”
Danny looked down at his feet and shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Well,cheap flyff money, look at it this way. If you had died last night, you wouldn’t have met me this afternoon. Right? And we
wouldn’t have fucked on that four-poster bed the way we did. That was something to live for, wasn’t it?”
Danny took a long drag on the joint and handed it to her. She was sitting on the side of him that had the
Confederate flag tattoo. He leaned against her and uttered a low growl.
“Well, was it?” she asked.
“Yeah, it was worth living for,” he said, “but only if there’s more where it came from.” He slid his arm around
her waist and kissed the back of her neck, growling softly and nibbling at her like a playful lion cub. She felt a
tingle of pleasure. In a moment he was stroking her knee, rubbing her thigh, lifting her off the pedestal, and
lowering her onto the ground. She squealed as he rolled on top of her. He lay lightly on her, supporting himself
by his elbows to keep from pressing her too hard against the ground. Dried leaves crackled beneath them. She

for?”
“Yeah! Neat, huh?” said Danny.
Corinne brushed the hair out of her face. “I need another drink.”
They continued on to the DeSoto Beach Hotel, a somewhat seedy oceanfront motel that was popular with the
young crowd. It had an open-air lounge with a pool, a rock band, and a tropical-style bar with a straw-hut roof.
They ordered pina coladas and sat on the seawall to watch the surf and the people strolling on the beach. Within
minutes, two good-looking young men came over, friends of Corinne’s, fellow students at the Savannah College
of Art and Design. While they talked, Danny remained silent. He became increasingly restive. He looked up the
beach, down the beach. He fidgeted. He sighed. As soon as Corinne’s friends said good-bye and walked away, he
stood up.
“I got an idea,” he said. “Bring your drink. We’re goin’ back into town.”
That was fine with Corinne. She had things to do anyway. “You’re not planning to fly over that bump again, I
hope,” she said.
“Nah, it only works in one direction.” They got into the car and roared out of the parking lot,buy wow gold, leaving a billowing
back-blast of gravel and dust.
“Did I detect a teeny bit of jealousy back there?” Corinne asked.
“No, uh-uh.”
“You didn’t think they were ‘making moves’ on me, did you?”
?70 312200 3
“They were a couple of assholes is what they were.”
Corinne did not answer. She was comparing Danny with her two friends. The other two were more clean-cut
than Danny and better educated too; their families had money, and their futures were pretty much assured. Those
two were probably not unlike the man she would eventually marry, whoever that might be. But neither one of
them had a fraction of Danny’s sex appeal. She looked at the Confederate flag tattoo on his arm,cheap rs gold, at his flat
stomach, at the way he gripped the wheel with one hand and rested the other lightly on his upper thigh. He
looked back at her and smiled.
“Hey,” he said softly,rs gold, “you know what? On the way back to town I’m gonna take you to the most beautiful place
in Savannah. It’s my favorite place to get high in the whole world.”
He turned off Victory Drive and drove down a winding road through the gates of Bonaventure Cemetery. The
late-afternoon sun filtered through the trees and cast soft, lengthening shadows. They walked down an avenue of
oaks smoking a joint.
“Dreamy, isn’t it?” said Corinne.
“Yeah,” said Danny.
“What do you think about when you come here?” she asked.
“Dyin’,flyff penya,” he said.
She laughed. “I mean, besides that.”

“Let me tell you something,” said Corinne. “I’m pretty good at knowing when somebody’s making a pass at me.
Jim Williams was not making a pass.”
“He was bein’ a wiseass.”
“He was letting you know who’s boss,” she said.
Danny turned the key in the ignition. “Same difference. And,warcraft gold, like I said, I don’t dig that shit.” He threw the car
into gear and floored the accelerator. The car shot out from the curb with an ear-piercing squeal. Corinne grabbed
the dashboard to brace herself. “Jesus Christ!” she said.
Danny swung around the corner of the square. A cloud of bluish-white smoke hung over the street in front of
Mercer House.
“Buckle up!” Danny shouted. “You’re gonna have the ride of your life!”
“No, I’m not!” Corinne answered. “Let me out! Now!”
?69 312200 3
“Later!” he said. “And don’t worry. I ain’t gonna kill ya. I’m a great driver, and this is the hottest damn car on the
road. This baby is supercharged!” Danny was smiling triumphantly; his eyes were bright. His self confidence had
returned. If he was not exactly the master of Mercer House, at least he was king of the road.
Corinne breathed a sigh of resignation and settled back for the ride. “Okay,” she said,cheap runescape gold, “where are we going?”
“Out to Tybee,” he said. “I want to show you something neat.”
They sped east on the Islands Expressway toward the beach. Corinne looked at Danny, sizing him up. She
preferred this cocky mood over the sullen one. “So tell me, what’s your connection to Mercer House and Jim
Williams?” she asked.
“I work for him,” he said, “when I feel like it. Odd jobs and shit.”
“Well, that sounds more like it,cheap warcraft gold,” she said. “You didn’t strike me as the stately homes type.”
“I make good money,flyff money, don’t you worry. And if anybody hassles me, I’m gone, man. I don’t take any shit.”
“So I noticed.”
“Yeah! Hey, I almost knocked that door off its hinges when I hauled ass, didn’t I? I bet Jim was pissed.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” said Corinne. “I think he got a charge out of it, which I thought was a little weird.”
The bridge to Tybee Island lay up ahead. Danny suddenly gunned the engine and picked up a burst of speed. He
swooped around the car ahead of him, leaving an open stretch of roadway to the bridge. “Hang on, now,” he said.
“This is where we really take off!” The car accelerated like a rocket. With a whump it hit a swayback bump in
the road, and all four wheels lifted off the ground.
“Airborrrrrnnnne!!!!!” Danny howled.
“Jesus Christ,” Corinne muttered as the car bounced back onto the road. “Is that what you brought me out here