Dec 10, 2008

Theodore Robinson The Red Gown painting

Thanks for picking up the check,” Hazard said. “Now I can say Chan the Man took me to lunch. Though I think these mamouls are going to turn out to be the most expensive cookies I ever ate.”“This was just lunch. No obligations. Like I said, if you close.”“That’s what I heard. In a potato-chip bag, places like that, where he can reach for it, and you don’t realize what he’s doing.”Hazard stared at him, saying nothing.“Maybe it’s a nine-millimeter Glock,” Ethan added.“He have a nuclear weapon, too?”“Not that I know of.”“Probably keeps the nuke in a box of Cheez-Its.”“Just take a bagful of mamouls, and you can handle anything.”can’t, you can’t. Reynerd’s my problem, not yours.”“Yeah, but you’ve got me intrigued now. You’re a better flirt than the waitress.”Midst a clutter of darker emotions, Ethan found a genuine smile.A sudden change in the direction of the wind threw shatters of rain against the big windows.Beyond the hard-washed glass, pedestrians and passing traffic appeared to melt into ruin as though subjected to an Armageddon of flameless heat, a holocaust of caustic acid.Ethan said, “If he’s carrying a potato-chip bag, corn chips, anything like that, there might be more than snack food in it.”“This the paranoid part? You said he keeps his piece

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