Whew! The words were coming out this morning! I love when I'm in the flow!
"I dug into my purse and handed him a twenty. “Watson?” I was positive the paper hadn’t made an ID of the victim. How did Mr. Kreinhagen know it was him?
“Yes, sirree little missy. Tom Watson. That old polecat got just what he deserved. Maybe that wife of his will settle up his account now he’s dead.” Mr. Kreinhagen tucked the bill into the register and counted out my change. “You want a bag?”"