She raised the Dream Catcher up and took a glancing look as she walked to the passenger side of the Saab. Stroking the feathers and contemplating wher... the lost feather could be. She left the clean up crew a big mess in her attempt to find it. She counted the feathers one more time. ‘123 … 456 … 78,’ Lynn sighed then put the Trinket in the seat and shut the car door. She turned on her heels and followed the scented trail of food. The Last Chance Bar and ‘Grill’ was a service station, truck. In the storeroom there were piles of crates of empty bottles, and among them four crates full of illegally smuggled in Cuban cigars. Opening the back entrance ready for the delivery man, Patrick sat down on a pile of crates, ‘How many are coming tonight for the game?’ ‘So far four…..I’m waiting to hear from Sam Goodwin, he’s not sure if he can make it due to a visit from an auditor down from head office…..I think he’s sweating on it….’ Patrick laughed, ‘Never trust a banker….especially with. More

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