Crime Time (Chapter Four, page 2 of 7)


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In all honesty, I didn't think I'd sleep but I turned out the light, climbed onto the small bed and closed my eyes. If Betsy and I were forced to share it, we wouldn't get much sleep. My six foot frame more than filled the bed.

Maybe it was the near-inaudible buzz or the rain on the roof, or my imagination, by I actually napped, for about twenty minutes. I dreamt too. It was a lucid dream; half awake, half asleep. Betsy was in it but I'll spare the details. It was not unlike any night's nocturnal hallucination. I lay there several minutes after I awoke and thought about what Howie experienced. Betsy was right. It certainly didn't sound anything like what I'd just experienced.

We discussed my non-happening over chicken salad and cheese soup. I could sense Betsy's disappointment and Martha's relief. Quinn had an I-told-you-so look on his face as he made a second sandwich and opened a beer. Howie was pensive. We were clearing dishes, before he spoke.

"I'll try it again, if you folks won't think I'm a fool."

"Oh, Howie," Martha said, "you don't have to go to that much trouble just to convince us."

Betsy desperately wanted to encourage him further but to her credit, she kept her silence. We'd the decision up to Howie alone. I sensed it was a difficult one on his part. I'd witnessed his reaction the prior night.

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