The installers were inching the old Hardware sign off the building as I sailed past. They’d be rehanging it inside over part of the historical exhibit. The new sign looked good: McCord’s Hardware, Established 1889.
I plowed past Riley, who asked, “Is everything okay, boss? Frank?”
I locked myself in my office and pulled the slats closed over the window.
I sat, put my head on the desk, and willed myself not to hyperventilate.
I needed time to think and reassess. I didn’t have room for weakness and panic.
Christopher banged on the door.
“Frank! Frank! What the hell happened back there? What’s going on? Let me in!”
I opened my mouth to tell him to leave me alone, but all I did was choke.
After I stopped coughing, I tried again. “Go away, Christopher. Go away.” My words sounded weak an
