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without a beginning or an end. Everything was there, all the parts of another being, yet nothing was there. He felt an unexplained chill and took an involuntary step backward. |
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"Look, fella, I don't know who the hell you are, but you're getting to be a pain in the ass. Let me give you a little advice, old man. You're bugging me, and you're bothering my lady. If you're not long gone by the time I walk across this room, pick up the phone and call security, you'll have your skinny butt hauled off to the local police station." |
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The old man walked stiffly into the room and closed the door behind him. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Frazier." |
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Halfway across the room, Charlie stopped. "Who the hell are you and what makes you think you can come marching into someone's house and . . . " His strident voice began to trail off as the old man reached into his pocket. |
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For one terrifying moment, Charlie was inundated with a blur of ill-defined amorphous images. Who was this old man? What did he want? Why was he here? What was it that was spurring on the old man's determination? Ruthie? Was all this somehow related to Ruthie? Or was it Cappy? Had Bertram Hollister sent the man to shut him up about Peggy Bowles? If the man's hand emerged with a gun, what would he do? His mind was |
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