He had not considered this aspect of the business. The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them. " "There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you are. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. The Law was around the corner and down the narrow hall, puffing a Virginia Slims Menthol in frantic sips, teetering uncomfortably out of an emergency exit door. He left that arid rule clear of the least mist of refinement or delicacy. “Sure, are you sure you’re okay?” He exited off the highway onto a quiet road and pulled over. He was shifting to reach his own weapon, which had fallen in between the pews at the back.
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