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His real name was Oscar. I think if she got her claws into you, you’d be two of them disappeared - one to each type destiny.”“I heard all that,” Susan told them approaching from behind and hugging herself to Bobby’s back. “I think the rumors are true. Jake said something about selling me to a guy in New York.”“Nancy, I know that my house is still cordoned off as a crime scene. I know you’re tired, but is it possible for you to get some clothes packed up for me and Susan - enough wear until the scene is cleared and we can get it cleaned? My wallet with cash, ID, and credit cards is in my top left desk drawer.” He dropped his voice to a very quiet whisper. “In the shed, over the door, is a cigar box with another .45 and three loaded magazines. Can y’all smuggle the box to me at Uncle Pete’s? I’m afraid that I might need it to protect Susan.”Nancy winked, nodded, and also whispered, “Nothing, I heard nothing!” Then she was gone, and the real morning began.Uncle Pete and Sheriff Peterson. Suddenly I was twenty again. I was half-wondering if I was daydreaming, or had fallen and hit my head, or had gone through some hitherto-undiscovered time warp that was located in a poorly-attended art gallery in the East Midlands. She was like every girl I’d ever followed around like a lost puppy dog way back when had merged to create some mutant idealised woman that was sure to destroy me if she had half the chance. Since I was already spending my free time questioning my basic decision-making, I was pretty susceptible and impressionable. She had more than half the chance.Our eyes locked and she smiled. I think I smiled. More likely, my jaw dropped open on the left side, giving me a dumb, lop-sided grin that I can’t stand but always end up with when my guard is down. She stifled a laugh. This was bad.“You know,” I said, gesturing to the painting in front of me, “This represents a fear of the unknown.” The painting was a dark maroon rectangle, with a single yellow dot in the top left.
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