"Hello?"

A woman's voice. "I'm sorry to bother you. Is this Delmore Honeycutt?"

"Um, yeah. Can I help you?"

"My name is Sabrina Spencer. I think you knew my sister, Izzy. I'm wondering if I could talk to you."

Oh great, there was another one.

"Uh, sure. Give me a minute and I'll come down."

I made my way into my bedroom and opened my gun safe. I pulled out my Sig Sauer .40 and stuck it in my belt behind my back. She might be alone, but she might not be.

A word about my gun. When I moved to East Boston, everyone I knew who lived in the city told me to take a gun course and get my firearm concealed-carry permit, then go out and buy a gun. If I was going to live in East Boston, I was going to need one. At first I thought they were joking, but after my first month there, and suddenly realizing that I didn't even notice the police sirens anymore, I decided to take it seriously. I took the course, got my permit, and bought a gun. I was told that for home protection, a revolver was my best choice, but I thought the semi-auto looked cooler, and hey, I had my license, so I could buy what I wanted. I had been to the gun range a half a dozen times over the past ten years, and I had renewed my license when it came due, but in reality, I was a terrible shot. Carrying it with me to meet Izzy's sister gave me a little confidence though, so it was worth it.

I got to the bottom of the stairs and could see through the opaque glass that she was alone. I still opened the door cautiously, just to be safe.

I almost fell over. She was stunning! She wasn't fashion model beautiful, but my kind of beautiful. She had a natural look about her, with little or no makeup. Wavy auburn hair flowed to her shoulder blades, the red tint gleaming in the sun. She was about 5'5" with a body to kill for—an expression that had more meaning of late. She smiled, revealing an ever-so-slightly crooked front tooth that somehow just enhanced her beauty.

"Um…" My mind had gone blank.

"Delmore?" she asked.

"Uh…" C'mon, get it together. "Del. You can call me Del." Was she used to this kind of reaction? If she was, she didn't show it. She had a combination of innocence and strength about her. She probably knew how beautiful she was, but it was almost like she didn't care.

Amazing, I gleaned all that in about five seconds.

She also looked nothing like her sister. There wasn't a hard edge to her. I also picked up a faint scent of strawberries. Much nicer than her sister's old cigarette odor. She was also younger than Izzy by a few years. Thirty-four, maybe?

"Hi, I'm Sabrina. Do you mind if we talk for a few minutes?"