Coyote
“You see that last point?” Edna asked breathlessly as soon as I walked into the locker room.
Nobody needed to tell me we’d won. A winning locker room feels different from a losing one. Besides, the suburban team would have needed hours to pull back from a 2–1 deficit.
“Who’s the hunk?” This from Joy. I wondered how she’d been able to see through closed doors. Probably noticed both of us disappear from the gym at the same time. The rest was pure guesswork.
I grinned at her, assured them all that I was feeling better, showered, and dressed quickly. The hunk was waiting when I came out. Joy and Edna passed while I was talking to him and gave me the eye.
“You carrying some ID?” I asked him. He yanked a brown folder like Jamieson’s out of his hip pocket. It said I was speaking to Special Agent Harrison Clinton.
“Harry will do,” he said with a smile that warmed up his eyes.
“You have a car, Harry?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Mind driving me home?”
He stared at my nose.
Write Review:
Guest
Read Also
8 / 10
User Reviews: