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At least the blood was fresh enough to make him think he hadna#39;t been lying there very long. He checked his ... Wil got to his feet unsteadily and dragged the telephone cord across the studio floor as he went to the racks, taking stock. aquot;Gas station. Ia#39;m on my way there now and, wouldna#39;t you know, the fucking tank was empty. ... aquot;Did you call the cops? ... Listerine. He soaked a wad of cotton and dabbed at the wound, the sharp pain instantaneously overwhelming the throb inside his head.

Author:Peter Clothier
Publisher:Atheneum Books - 1987-01-01


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