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Johnson said in an angry tone, every one else as angry as he was, except for Jessica who was relieved to have been spared from the spit even if it is only for a few moments. Mr. Johnson you have failed to pay your roasting tax for the last meat-girl you spit roasted on this property, you know you can not roast another meat-girl until the taxes on the last have been paid, and I also see here that your fire pit and spit are not up to A.M.A code the meat agent said walking over to Jessica with a knife in his hands, Jessica was afraid he would slit her throat killing her, witch is what is normally done to confiscated meat-girls, moving closer he cut the ropes that bound Jessica to the four corners of the table, Im afraid Im going to have to confiscate this meat-girl and shut this roasting pit down until you pay your tax and bring this pit up to code the meat agent said turning his back on Mr. Johnson and leaving the yard with Jessica. On the ride to who the hell knows ware, Jessica was. As Dr. Calder settled in to a semi-private booth at the edge of the room, Jackie took the time to assess his entourage.There were two young women with him. They seemed to be fashion accessories more than anything. The two girls looked enough alike that they could be sisters, but maybe that was just the way they coordinated their styles. Jackie had no information on them, but was sure she'd be able to find them somewhere in the 'social' column of a New York or Los Angeles newspaper.The man who sat at Blake's side was famous. He was a stage magician named Mav Branson. 'Mav' for Maverick? It was a stage name, of course. Dr. Calder stood taller, and seemed to command more attention, but Mav would be better known to the average member of the public. They were similar in a way. Both were well known for feats of hypnosis. Blake was known for his clinical work. Mav was a stage hypnotist.It was an odd association. Jackie had done her research on both men. They came from different fields, but.
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