Chapter 67 second quarter

Decker was taken aback.Through the side window of the kitchen, he saw the approaching headlight beams and heard the sound of the car engine at the same time.The car has not been driven very close, so it is impossible for people in the car to see directly into the kitchen.Within a few seconds, though, the car will be very close.Decker, Hal, and Ben hid under the window, looking around eagerly. "Let me deal with it. Don't let anyone see your faces unless it's absolutely necessary," Decker said. "Maybe it's okay. I don't want him to recognize that you broke the door." He came from the right One of the archways in the hall was receded, hidden in the darkness of the living room.Hal and Benzo moved to the left passage leading to the study and bedroom.

There was the creaking of the garage door outside, and the car's engine died a few seconds later.Then the garage door creaked again. Decker clung to a bookshelf in the living room.He heard the scratching sound of the key as it opened the rear door lock, and felt beads of sweat trickling down his chest.The door opened, and there was the sound of someone entering the room.There was another scraping, the door closed and the lock was turned back—and at that moment Decker stepped into the kitchen, pistol clutched. Seeing this man in front of him, he was relieved, flustered, and angry.It was clear to Decker that his determination drove him to take risks that he had refused to contemplate in his previous life.Randolph Green was most likely a law-abiding citizen, and it may have been a mere coincidence that he rented a blue Chevrolet Cavalier at the Albuquerque airport on Sept. 1.If so, what if Green panics when he sees Decker's pistol?What if something goes really bad and Green gets mortally wounded?Or even if Green wasn't injured, it would have been illegal for Decker to break into Green's home.If he was arrested for this, his former boss would not come forward to persuade the local police to spare him.

The man was about to enter the kitchen when he heard Decker's footsteps and turned in surprise.Decker's doubts vanished in an instant.Startled at the sight of Decker's pistol, the man immediately put his right hand under the blue blazer he was wearing.But no sooner had he drawn the revolver than Decker rushed to him, kicked him in the leg, grabbed his right hand and lifted it toward the ceiling, then snapped the revolver out of the way with a twist of his wrist. His hands shot down. The man fell to the ground, grunting in pain.Decker kicked the revolver aside, held the Beretta to his forehead, and searched him quickly.After making sure he had no other weapons on him, Decker took a few steps back with his wallet, but the Beretta in his hand was still pointed down at him, and at this moment, he heard There were hurried footsteps in the passage behind, and Hal and Ben rushed into the kitchen.

"Are you okay?" The Beretta in Ben's hand was also aimed at the man. "If you think about how pissed I am, you know I'm fine." Decker pointed to the skinny 50-something on the ground.The man had a kind face, with gray and thinning hair.The only slight change since Decker last saw him was that his pale skin 10 days ago was now a little tanned by the desert sun. "Let me introduce you to this art dealer who claims to be selling paintings for Beth—Dale Hawkins. Long time no see, Dale. How is your business?" Hawkins looked up from where he was lying on his stomach. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Do you know—"

Decker kicked him.When Hawkins stopped moaning, Decker said, "I have a question for you, Dale. How is your business? If you have to leave your gallery in New York, your business must not be doing well, right? Or Is your real name Randolph Green? I'm so confused by all this, Dale, and when I'm confused I get angry; and when I'm angry I--" Decker pulled out a kitchen drawer and dumped the weight on him, causing Hawkins to fold his arms and howl. "Talk to me, Dale, sooner or later you have to talk, so you might as well save yourself as soon as possible, so as not to suffer flesh and blood."

"What do not you know--" Decker threw an oven at Hawkins, hitting him squarely in the thigh.His face was disfigured from the pain, and he didn't know which part of his body to scratch to feel better. "Don't make me impatient." Decker poured some water into a pot, put the pot on the gas range, and lit it. "If you're curious, I can tell you I'm not here for the coffee. Have you ever had a third-degree burn? They say burns are the worst. I'm serious, Dale, listen, you...and... ...Beth ... Dwyer ... is ... what ... the relationship?" Hawkins was still clutching his thigh in pain. "Look at my wallet."

"what?" "My wallet is the one you're holding in your hand. Look inside." "Is there anything about Beth in this?" Decker, not wanting to take his eyes off Hawkins, threw the wallet at Ben. "See what he said?" Ben opened his wallet and examined the contents carefully, frowning. "What's the matter?" Decker asked. "He lied? Without Beth?" "Can't find anything about Beth." Ben looked very disturbed. "However, assuming the identity card is not forged, then Randolph Green is his real name." "Really? So what?"

"According to this—" Ben pulled out a badge. "He was a marshal in a United States federal court."