“Dark door, dark window, cold floor as I tore my gun from the holster and said, “Who is it?” “Jen.” What the hell time was it? What the hell was she doing there? Was there any possibility that this was a dream? “Hurry up,” she said. I thought of something pretty damned ungentlemanly to say but I obeyed her siren call, anyway. You could easily mistake her for a bear what with the parka and bulky butternuts she wore with a layer or two of long johns underneath. She came in, shut the door. “Get the... lamp lit. We need to hurry.” “What the hell’s going on? What time is it, anyway?” “What the hell’s going on is that Connelly and Pepper left about ten o’clock last night for the mountains. And the time is four o’clock.” She didn’t wait for me to turn up the lamp. She did it herself. Meanwhile, I went to the window. The snow was churning pretty thick and already hinting at the fury to come. “I’m just worried about their head start. I wasn’t sleeping very much, anyway, worrying about Mike.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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