“Estelle lay flat on her back and stared up into the darkness. The luminous dial of the clock on the nightstand soundlessly flashed 2:52. An hour’s sleep, maybe two and then her mind had churned the rest of her system awake. “You want to get up and jog around the block?” Her husband’s voice was hardly more than the softest exhalation, gentle and warm against her left ear. He was lying on his right side, and she wasn’t sure when he had awakened. “I’d be too tired to find my way back home,” she wh...ispered. She felt a finger trace the outer margin of her ear. “What time did Padrino finally leave?” “He played one more game after you called. A little after nine, maybe.” She sighed. “I wanted to see his face when he opened the gifts from los hijos. I’m sorry I missed that.” A brief chuckle popped warm air against her ear. “He deserved an Academy Award.” Estelle smiled at the thought. Bill Gastner, the retired lawman, had been given a western video sometime in the distant past by one of his own children, no doubt with the thought that the video would prompt the start of a collection.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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