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his camel jacket, but he didn't seem to be aware of that. He was gazing with wide eyes at the door. The martini man stuffed the remains of the croissant into his mouth and lifted the cleaver off his lap. |
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'If I were you guys,' John said, 'I wouldn't answer the door. Come on, Steve.' |
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Steve watched the door over his shoulder as he followed John into the cocktail lounge. Then he met John's eyes and said, 'This is really bad shit. I don't know. I don't know.' |
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'They seem like pretty sturdy doors. If you want to worry about something, worry about the windows.' |
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'Oh, thanks for mentioning it.' |
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'You're the guy who wants to go home.' |
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'I think I'll pass on that.' |
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John scanned the dimly lighted room. A few men and women were seated on bar stools. Small groups sat at some of the tables. 'Must be close to twenty people in here,' he said. 'Maybe about thirty others, including the help. That's a lot of manpower if the place gets stormed.' |
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'Stormed? Oh, Jesus. Great.' |
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'I'm not saying it'll happen.' |
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In the alcove at the far end of the room, people were lined up to use the two pay phones. John wished Lynn were among them instead of back in the dining area sopping up margaritas and chatting with Carol. |
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As he stepped through the group, he heard a woman at one of the phones say, 'In the nightstand drawer on your father's side of the bed. It's loaded, so |
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