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say that can't wait until tomorrow." |
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Kelto held up his hand in a halting motion. "You've been asking questions about me, Mr. Wages, so I asked a few questions about you." |
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"Just who the hell are you?" I snarled. |
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I don't like indolent people, but I like the word indolent because it perfectly describes the demeanor of people like Kelto. He was sleek, constructed like a greyhound, with the natural grace of a dancer, yet here he was with his perpetual pout lowering himself slowly, almost clumsily, into a chair. He had no intention of leaving. "I know what you think," he whispered huskily. "I know you're wondering what I found out about you." He paused, all too aware of the stress level. "I learned quite a bit. Would you like to know what I learned, Mr. Wages?" |
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I was still trying to get my temper under control. I walked over to the dresser and strapped on my watch, then sat down on my bed. "You've got five minutes. Say whatever it is that you've got to say and get the hell out of here." |
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"You're E.G. Wages," he began in his malevolent voice, "a writer who writes stories about things like this. You make people uncomfortable with your focus on the bizarre and supernatural." |
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"Four minutes and counting." |
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"You came to Chambers Bay because you suspected that there would be a repeat of |
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