SPECIAL DELIVERY,by James Holding
Foley had paid for the cigarettes and was lingering by the counter, ripping off a corner of the pack, when the pretty dark-haired woman came into the drugstore.
She walked toward him, hip-swaying a little, which was pleasant to watch because her pink shorts and halter top revealed a figure as taut and graceful as a Russian gymnast’s. She had blue eyes, skin the color of cream that’s been lightly laced with coffee, a good-to-be-alive expression on her face, and a big dog on a leash at her heels. The dog was a standard size French poodle, kennel-cut. He danced along as lightly and merrily as his mistress.
The woman came up beside Foley and plucked a copy of the daily newspaper from a stack beside the cash register. She folded the newspaper twice, creased
