[He didn’t mean to crowd Linneus or push him forward, but if they were going to talk, they needed privacy. He followed the man into the apartment and shut the door, giving a soft sigh of relief. Then McCoy went to work looking for any spying devices. He was by no means an expert, but three years in the city and paranoid friends had taught him plenty of suspicion. He spoke as he hunted.]


Yeah, it’s yours. Alla it. An ya get room service too. All day an all night. Still miss that. Clothes’re probably in the bedroom. The main one I mean. Ya probably got at least two.