"Because one expects snakes to bite you in the ass." She mumbled. "Annnnnd that's the other thing. Not exactly rolling in money." She shrugs, again. "I'll figure it...something, out. I was thinking about the legal route too, so, we'll see."

She looked at her coffee cup, she looked at his coffee cup. This was so bizarre. Oh, hey, look at this, a nightclub owner and a hired gun (did they actually pay him though?) just sitting in a diner shooting the shit after murders have happened. The plainclothes cop had taken a seat at the other end of the diner.

"So," she started, looking at him over the rim of her coffee cup, "who was the guy in the cell? Kinda curious." And plenty nervous to actually find out.