“I’d had Yankowski fifteen feet from me; I’d had him at gunpoint and he’d gotten away! Again! Maybe Inspector Doyle was right; maybe it was too soon for me to come back to work. Maybe I should put in for a desk job where I couldn’t do any damage. I spent the next half hour looking for Yankowski in the underbrush on the slope; around the pool, the playground, the track; and back in the school yard. If he handled dirty dishes as adroitly as he had eluding me, he must have been the best dishwasher ...in town. The sky was growing lighter. But fog shrouded the dawn. At quarter to six I walked back to Paradise. The pain in my lower back had receded to a heavy ache that throbbed with each step. It felt ominously familiar, the same ache that had been there for weeks after the helicopter crash. My ribs and shoulder still stung. Gritty dirt streaked my face and sweat matted my hair. I thought longingly of my house with its many-headed shower, its sauna, hot tub, and Jacuzzi. Great, Smith, just go home and loll in the tub; that’s about what you’re good for.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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