Eight million stories in the humid city and this is one. Me, I'm just a gal with a badge. And a stack of citations to hand out.
Because nothing says "Sacred matrimony" like a pair of lace hot-pants and a transparent top with a cape of hand-detailed Carrickmacross lace and entredoux.
Oh, Miami. Just no.
I shudderingly wonder what the shoe choice would be.
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