It was the climactic moment of the entire three-act play. The .38 caliber revolver, drawn from his tattered trench coat in haste by the seedy private dick, was scripted to take the life of his lover. He didn’t intend the slug for her. He meant to shoot the fugitive felon who had kidnapped her and brought her under duress to the remote and rustic mountain shack where she had been held hostage for two long and dreary winter weeks. Two weeks during which she had learned that the…
Retired environmental manager, reader, traveler, quick with a hand or a smile.