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wet and wind driven. Even though his rear window was covered and the window on the passenger side was almost as bad, it was no problem keeping the old Roadmaster on the road. Big as a tank and twice as heavy, it settled nicely into the ruts that were already hidden by the present snowfall. |
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He passed a sign. It was a good thing he did, because he needed some reassurance. "Sixkill - 6 Miles." |
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Son of a bitch! This whole affair was turning out to be a lot more than he had bargained for. Goldstein was probably sitting back in the BOQ laughing. "Look, Charlie, it ain't no big deal. You take Route 10 down to Windless Bay and keep your eyes peeled. About two miles out of town you'll see a road. There'll be a sign for Sixkill. It's an old fishing village, can't be more than thirty or thirty-five people livin' in that Godforsaken dump. But, old buddy, that's where you gotta go to find her." |
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Now he wondered what else Goldstein hadn't told him. That was always what concerned him, what people didn't tell him. "She's good, Charlie, really good. Believe me, you ain't seen anything like it. She'll dazzle ya. But I gotta warn ya, the lady is one expensive broad." |
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Charles Everett Frazier reached down and patted his pocket; the wallet was there. There were eight, crisp, new one hundred dollar |
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