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important. He had to do what he had come to do, and Peggy Bowles was a part of it. He was counting on her. |
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"There it is," she said. "I see the names on the mailbox. Ted and Betty Frazier." |
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Charlie edged the big Oldsmobile over to the curb and studied the exterior of the building. This was it, the place where it would finally happen. It was just like he had pictured itthe redwood siding, the lofted roof, the manicured lawns, the hooded walkway lamps that subtly illuminated the flagstone path leading up to the pretentious entrance. |
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Charlie sucked in his breath and held it for a moment. Ted, old buddy, old asshole brother of mine, this is going to be a weekend you'll never forget. One by one, he clicked off his preparations right down to the final touch, the roses he had sent ahead for Betty. Now it all revolved around the special present for Theodore, the one he had carted all the way from Newfoundland, the one that had been stashed on a shelf in his closet all these months just waiting for this weekend. |
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Peggy leaned toward him and peered out his window. "Nice," she cooed. "I like it. So tell me, just what is it this brother of yours does for a living?" |
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It was typical Peggy Bowles, straight to the heart of the issue. Paraphrased, she was asking just how much money Theodore Frazier |
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