Previously in The Blues & Billie Armstrong…
I said, “You heard what Laurette said about Frankie, right? We didn’t realize who we were talking to. We gotta go back and talk to her soon as we can.”
“Absolutely,” Billie said.
Five o’clock came and went, but Billie wasn’t home yet.
Darlene Beverly was in the kitchen, cooking something I would soon be expected to eat and praise. Her cooking always smelled like hamburger in a frying pan—I swear, the woman put hamburger in everything.