In the five minutes it took for Randy to walk from the drugstore to the truck (parking always sucked hard on a Friday night in that part of the city), the sky went from the pink-orange flames of sunset to the gray-black smudge of near-night. The streets were still damp from the early afternoon rain shower that the following sun hadn’t quite had the strength to dry up, and the air carried a dank, musty odor. The atmosphere matched Randy’s bleak mood perfectly.
“Pardon me,” a clipped voice with a polished accent said from Randy’s left.
Randy raised his head and eyed the gentleman who stood on the sidewalk beside his truck. The man was tall, pale, and attractive, with dark hair that hung long and straight. His suit looked like it must have cost a million bucks. But when Randy found himself
