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and dropped into the chair beside him. "Did you ever find Kelto to talk to him?" |
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"Last night," I muttered, hoping the curt response would satisfy him. It did. Bert wanted to talk about other things. When he started in on the fog, I knew that Jake had been at least partially successful. It was obvious the word on Percy Kramer hadn't yet made it as far as the Chambers Bay Motel. |
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"Ever see fog like this before?" Bert groused. |
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I shook my head. To be honest, I wasn't really interested in casual conversation; Bert's only real attraction for me was his coffee. I fully intended to hit him up for a second cup, get my still snoozing brain in gear and begin formulating plans for the day. There were two things uppermost in my mind. One was a second go around with the mysterious Mr. Kelto, and the second was a chance to look into this person they called the Widow Austin. During the course of the long night I had tried repeatedly to reason out how and why these attacks seemed to be occurring in both a chronological and geographical pattern. I had taken for granted that our creature or thing was one in the samethat is to say, the same individual. But somewhere along in the dark hours, between fitful hours of halfsleep, I realized that I might be guilty of jumping to one very erroneous conclusion. |
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