Awaash. The Cops Are Here

On the morning of what was to have been the last friday of her life, nancy latham was sitting in her bath tub. The cops are lige nance. There's a hit out on you, and you're going to get murdered. Tell somebody. How would you tell me? Oh, we have to leave. Someone's trying to kill you. That's my reaction. You would shove like a bottle of shard with a straw into one hand. Where we go? P the bar by way. We just pass one. Not that one. No, not that one either. I'll tell you what en we're in the same place. Itr perfect.