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.Armed with my pack of cinnamon-flavored “Al,” I started to walk out of the store.Then something caught my eye and I reached into my purse again.In a moment I was wearing an Angels baseball cap.It would protect my head and give my face a little shade.Standing there in the lone bit of shadow on the long, bright street reminded me of the time I hurt my knee while playing softball in school.The short distance across the diamond to the nurse’s office seemed to stretch to the length of a dozen football fields, with my throbbing knee my whole focus.That’s what the street looked like at this moment.Suck it up, Graves.I checked one more time to be sure the car was locked and started walking down the street.With each step I got hotter.The dim winter sun seemed to have the intensity of the desert in August on my fragile, exposed skin.There wasn’t much showing, but my hands and the back of my neck felt like they were starting to blister.I needed to remember to wear the blazer with pockets next time.I tried to walk quickly but not so fast it was in the paranormal range.I readjusted my hair to cover as much of my neck as possible and brought my reddening hands up to where they were shaded by the hat visor.I was sweating now and reaching the busy part of the street.People ignored me as I passed quickly by.The red and white sign of Al’s Gun Shop at the far end of the block was my whole world.“Can you spare some change, miss?” I heard the words, but they didn’t register until I felt a hand on my arm.I turned and pushed his hand away, recoiling from the scent of urine and days of sweat.“I haven’t eaten in days, lady.Please?” The bum’s wheedling voice didn’t match the strength in that hand, which finally pulled my mind away from the stinging of my skin.The intensity in his hazel eyes bored through the grime and the three-day growth of beard.His body shape finally reminded me of the stocky Italian who’d sat in my office in a charcoal suit and muted tie.I looked up and sure enough … I was standing right under the Sam’s sign.Rizzoli must have noticed something was wrong, because he frowned with concern.But I didn’t want to get into my own issues, so I just looked down at my purse and reached inside.My fingers found the folded twenty with the note paper-clipped inside.“Here.Skip the meal.Go buy yourself a bath.” I tried to make my voice sound like a disgusted tourist and I sort of was, so I pulled it off.A wry twitch of his mouth and a wink said I had the right man.“Thanks lady.” He turned without another word and walked through the restaurant door.I nearly sprinted to the safety of the air-conditioned gun shop.I needed to replace the boomers I’d used at the prison as well as pick up a few more mudders.Al’s had the products and they were cheaper here than at Isaac Levy’s store.Unfortunately, they were a brand I didn’t recognize, so I had no idea whether they’d work as well.Normally, I’d insist on trying them out, the way I usually did in the gun range in Isaac’s basement.Here at Al’s—no gun rack, no demo.Plus, the guy who waited on me was the only person in the store—stupid, in my opinion.But not my business and I wanted to get back to my car while it was still there.While he was writing up the paperwork for the ammo I’d also bought, I stared out at the street through the window.The bars and grate over the glass fractured the view, but I could still see a trio of street performers across the way.There were two men, playing guitar and bongo drums, and a dancer, a very flamboyant African-American woman who was dressed in a bright yellow tribal robe and hat with geometric designs in black and orange.The group hadn’t been there a moment before.A spirited Latin beat throbbed through the air.It was good music and good dancing and the performance was drawing a crowd.The woman twirled and stepped gracefully; the musicians gave it their all.A fourth man stepped forward, passing around a hat.Surprising to me, given the area, people were dropping money into it.The store clerk let out a small laugh as his eyes followed my gaze.“I see Gwyneth and her crew are back.It must be two already.Every day, same time.I don’t know what they spend their morning doing, but they make good money in the afternoon.”He handed me a bag with my purchases and I moved closer to the window to watch.My eyes were glued to her fluid movements.So much so that I nearly missed a familiar figure that darted by a few steps away [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]