The coffee before him grew cold as he continually stirred it with a slow, unfaltering pace.She was late. Not very late, but late. Every passing minute...heightened Cal’s worry that she might not show at all. Or would it be a relief? He stared unblinkingly as his leg shook uncontrollably beneath the table. A glimmer of regret at having arranged this meeting flashed through his mind; this was outside his comfort zone, but it was too late now. She would be here soon—he clung to that belief, for. "Excuse me, There's something wrong with my car and I can't get reception on my cell. Would you mind if I used your phone to call Triple-A?" Right about then, a scraggly, mean son of bitch called Pan Head came up behind her. "Well, aren't you a pretty little thing. Why don't you let me buy you a beer? I'm sure we can take real good care of you." To her credit, Holly tried to be polite, but I think she'd already caught the smell of too much smoke and alcohol on him and her reply of "No, it's. More

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