He kept pounding on the front door of Artie’s house loudly. So loudly he was waking up the neighborhood dogs and even a couple of Artie’s neighbors. Porch lights were coming on next door and across the street. Dogs were barking erratically, but Artie wasn’t opening the door.
Dammit!
Stepping back Joe Gallagher reached inside his slack’s pockets and pulled out a set of keys. In the darkness of Artie’s blacked-out front porch, Joe searched frantically through the keys for the right one. It took some seconds, but he finally found it. Jamming it into the door lock he unlocked the door and hurriedly stepped in and closed the door behind him. Inside the house was empty, dark, and yet vaguely, he could make out just enough to know Artie had been here not so long ago. Faintly he could smell ciga
