Chapter 3
“Mr. Halloran,” Clyde said.
“Yes, Mr. Wills.” Ryan lived in a gated community, and Clyde was the security guard on duty today. Although he’d told the older man several times to address him as Ryan, he’d long ago stopped trying. He knew he’d never be able to alter the man’s sense of what was respectful and appropriate.
“There’s a man to see you who says his name is Harold Johnston and that you saved his life.”
Ryan laughed. “Don’t believe everything you hear, Clyde. Let Mr. Johnston in, please.”
In contrast to Boon, Johnston shook his hand. When Ryan offered drinks, he took a caffeine-free Mist Twist. “The ticker, you know.”
“Yes. I’m so glad you’re better and your ordeal didn’t finish you off.”
Together they approached the window and, protected by the glass, looked down.
