“John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. “No, those are my brother’s dog tags. “I shot him. Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it. She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. "She was mine before you ever saw her. Which is C?” Ann Veronica, with a curious sinking of the heart, regarded the black cavities of the vans.
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