Sleeping with the Enemy by Gordon PhillipsThe sunshine was thin, and it was a little too cold on the patio. We were seated inside the Cozy Café which was quite crowded. Glen was lamenting the current political situation and Frank, as was his wont, was listening politely. I was only half-listening; Glen was starting to repeat himself.
At the other tables, similarly intense conversations were going on and, from what I managed to catch, they too seemed to be about politics. I sighed. Politics was very much in the air.
One table was different; the three guys sitting there were fairly quiet, and they looked uneasy. Curious, I kept glancing across at them. My persistent interest was noticed; the guy facing me was now staring directly at me. I hastily looked away in an automatic reaction, for I
