He stopped a few feet directly before me and scanned the playground with a slight frown. “I’m used to this place being much busier. I was really hoping to watch the kids playing before we got on to business.”
Steady, I cautioned myself. Steady.
“Did you bring the gun?” he asked.
I pulled it from the pocket, thumbed the hammer back, and pointed at his massive chest. “Yes.”
“Good,” he said, showing a total lack of fear, just watching me with those clever eyes, and favoring me with a thin, disquieting smile. “Now remember your position, and put it back before the temptation to use it gets too strong.”
Good advice, I decided, but was reluctant to comply. Not shooting him right then was a struggle akin to not drinking. Finally, slowly, I let the hammer down and put the revolver back
