[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

"I knew you wouldn't like it. But here I am, back home and safe, with some pretty exciting memories,"
Lang reminisced.
"As alone as when you left." Bob indicated Mikey, who was lying down on the back seat of Bob's
Thunderbird, reading a Marvel comic book. "If you'd gotten married, vyu could have had one of
those by now."
Lang looked at Mikey and his eyes darkened. "I don't have your courage," he said curtly.
Bob glanced at him. "And you said I shouldn't let the past ruin my life."
Lang shrugged."It tends to intrude. Less since I've been away."
"But you still haven't coped with it, Lang, you're getting older. You'll want a wife and a family one
day."
Lang couldn't argue with wanting a wife. It was the thought of a child that made him hesitate. "My last
case reminded me of how short life can be, and how unpredictable," he said absently. "The woman I
was helping guard had a kid brother who'd been in a coma for years. He's older than Mikey, but a real
nice kid. I got attached to him." He stretched and leaned his head back against the seat. "I did a lot of
thinking about where my life was going, and I didn't like what I saw. So when an old friend of mine
mentioned this security chief job, I decided to give it a try."
"What old friend?" Bob asked dryly. "Someone female?"
Lang glowered at him. "Yes."
"And still interested in you?"
"Lorna gave me up years ago, before I started going with Kirry. She was only thinking that I might
like a change," he said. "It's nothing romantic."
Bob didn't say anything, but his expression did. "Okay, I'll quit prying. Where is it that you're going to
work?"
"A corporation called Lancaster, Inc., in San Antonio. It has several holdings, and I'll be responsible
for overseeing security in all of them."
Bob made a sound in his throat.
"What was that?" Lang asked curiously.
Bob coughed, choking. "Why, not a thing in this world!" he said. He was grinning. "I hope you like
pancakes for dinner, it's all I can cook, and Connie won't be in for hours yet. I usually make her an
omelet when she gets here." His hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I hate mechanics!"
"You knew Connie had this talent when you married her ten years ago," Lang reminded him.
"Well, I didn't know she planned to open her own shop, did I? For the past six months, ever since she
went into business, I've been living like a single parent! I do everything for Mikey, everything, and
she's never home!"
Lang's evebrows lifted. "Does she have any help?"
"Can't afford any, she says," he muttered darkly, pulling into the driveway of the stately old Victorian
house they lived in. Out back was a new metal building, from which loud mechanical noises were
emanating.
The elderly lady next door, working in her flowers, gave Bob an overly sweet smile. "How nice to
see you again, Lang," she said. "I hope you didn't come home for some peace and quiet, because if
you did, you'll find more peace and quiet in downtown San Antonio than you'll get here!"
"You're screaming, Martha," Bob said calmly.
"I have to scream to be heard with that racket going on night and day!" the white-haired little ladv
said. Her face was turning red. "Can't you make her quit at a respectable hour?"
"Be my guest," Bob invited.
"Not me," she mumbled, shifting from one foot to the other. "Tried it once. She flung a wrench at me."
She made a sniffling noise and went back to work in her flowers.
Lang was trying hard not to laugh. He took his flight bag, and Mikey, out of the back seat.
"Is that all you have?" Bob asked for the third time since he'd gotten his brother off the plane.
"I don't accumulate things," Lang told him. "It's not sensible when your assignments take you all over
the country and around the world."
"I guess so. You don't accumulate people, either, do you?" he added sadly.
He clapped a big hand on his brother's shoulder. "Family's different."
Bob smiled lopsidedly. "Yeah."
"I'll just go out and say hello to Connie."
"Uh, Lang..."
"It's all right, I'm a trained secret agent," Lang reminded him dryly.
"Watch your head. Place is loaded with wrenches."
Lang banged on the door and waited for the noise to cease and be replaced with loud mutters.
The door was thrown open and a slight woman with brown hair wearing stained blue coveralls and an
Atlanta Braves cap peered up at him. "Lang? Lang!"
She hurled herself into his big arms and hugged him warmly. "How are you? When Bob told me [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • exclamation.htw.pl