Chapter 81

Well, that’s how I wound up visiting a prison. The one holding Lester. Because the letter Arthur showed me informed him that Lester deeded the bar his way—lock, stock and smoking barrel. It didn’t make sense, which is why I needed to go see him. A detective likes to make sense of things, needs to unravel a mystery. Plus, the case was almost over. This was the last and final piece of the puzzle.

I’d never been to a prison before. It was bleak. It was somewhat terrifying. Dismal would be a good word for it. Still, I was intrigued. Not to mention relieved at sitting where I was sitting. As opposed to where Lester was sitting. Namely across from me, behind a thick pane of glass, holding a grimy phone in his hand. Orange, by the way, is so not the new black. Orange only looks good on traffic cones. Or, you know, on oranges. On Lester, no. Not even close.