CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURLindsey never, never got up and watched the early morning news. Sometimes he felt like Robert Young playing Jim Anderson in an old Father Knows Best episode, drinking his coffee and juice and reading the West County Times. Come to think of it, Jim Anderson had held a job like Lindsey’s, and he’d lived a life of uninterrupted peace and contentment. Maybe Lindsey could find Jim Anderson’s Springfield and move there and live the way Jim lived.
But today he clicked on the news. There was the footage that Geraldine González had shot during last night’s raid. There was the dead gunman and there was the survivor. González even caught part of his dialog. And there in one pan was Hobart Lindsey, flak vested and face painted and looking pretty exotic at that.
And there was Gonzá
