“Jenni Plochka?” the worn woman in a pink bathrobe read the card in a harsh, tobacco and booze voice. The blue “Vacancy” flashed through her cigarette smoke. She frowned suspiciously. “Don’t get many BMWs here.”

“Just wanna crash. Gotta bed?”

“OK. But we paintin’ and wirin’, so th’only room is an old one at the end.”

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