It had taken just a few seconds for all the facts to rearrange themselves in her mind, in nice, neat rows, but it was too long. Parker had seen Sarah's expression change and knew she had figured out the facts. His handsome face hardened and his eyes turned the color and consistency of bullets. Steel gray and hard. He reached behind in his back pocket and whipped out a little handgun. It looked dainty and harmless, like a toy, but the hand that held it was steady as a rock. Sarah took a step back, next to Mrs. Atkins.
Sarah's mother had trained her to be, among other things, a good hostess and an amusing conversationalist. She could talk to practically anyone about practically anything, and it was not often that she found herself at a loss for words. This time however she didn't know what
