Chapters (46)
- COVER PAGE
- PRAISE
- DEDICATION
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- SNEAK PEEK: EXIT .45
He eased his thumb in under one of the straps and then raised the hand slowly, lifting the bag off the table. Then he came slowly to his feet and lowered his arms to his sides, letting the duffel hang at his leg. Locke had the gun on an upward tilt, keeping the sights on Andre’s chest.
Andre said, ‘Now this is a dilemma, huh? How sure are you that I have a gun?’ Grinning down at him. ‘Not sure enough, or you would’ve shot me. But then what happens if there’s nothing in the bag?’
Locke heard someone say, ‘Call nine-one-one’.
Andre stood there smiling faintly, as if waiting for the bullet. He licked his lips and sighed, blowing the air in Locke’s face, flecks of spit riding the foul air. ‘Didn’t think so. Let’s try and make sure we don’t see each other again.’
He stepped around the table and walked through to the foyer and then out into the lot.
TWENTY
TWENTY
They sat at a table down in the Lobby Lounge, and Vincent gave him the story. Beauden listened without interjecting, and when Vincent was done, Beauden said, ‘Ouuuu, man.’ Looked off to one side and finished his beer, three long glugs with the bottle vertical. They sat quietly for a while, a minute or two, the kind of easy silence that’s possible when you’ve known someone all your life, thirty-odd years and a war.
Beauden said, ‘Why’d he leave the wife behind? This Wayne guy, if he’s running from something that might get him killed, why’d he say he’d be gone a few days? It’s not going to cool down by Tuesday and he can come home again.’
Vincent said, ‘If he’s running, I don’t think he’ll be back.’
‘Yeah, exactly. And that’s why it’s strange. How do you just draw a line under your life and walk out the door without saying anything?’
He shook his head, as if clearing the thought, and said, ‘I’ve worn that suit at two funerals and a wedding. You know that?’
Vincent said, ‘Funnily enough, I didn’t.’
He’d had it on less than thirty minutes. Black, two button, white shirt, no tie. It actually fitted him okay. Beauden had brought him a pair of shoes too, although they could do with some polish.
Beauden said, ‘Have to admit, I got down here and I thought maybe I should’ve just brought you jeans and a sweater.’
‘Yeah. That would’ve been fine.’