What's that mean?"

"You once called and warned me when Lydia was killed. Course you didn't leave a name."

The quiet chuckle lacked humor. "This isn't the same thing. You can't tie me into your troubles."

"That's true. Still, things need to be evened out some way. I got Rinolli last night. You're next.

"I picked up a 30-06 this morning with a real nice scope. Better than anything I had in Nam. I can drop you from five, even six hundred yards." Stratford said nothing, but the rate of his breathing had increased noticeably.

"Maybe it's better this way. Better than proof, I mean. Least I'll see you go down. And with a six-hundred-yard headstart, I'll be long gone, I'll drop off the face of the earth." He hung up the phone and returned to his table at the window of the coffee shop.

He had a good view of the entrance to the Wells Fargo Bank across the street. He reviewed his brief call, wondering if he'd said enough. Or maybe too much. Waiting was all that could be done for now.

* * *

As Lt. Stratford left the bank, Brad stepped up beside him. "Lied some. It's a.357 magnum."

Stratford turned slowly, his face a mask of fury.

"Die here or walk and live awhile." Brad's voice was pitched low, the tone mild. There was no expression in his eyes. He was relaxed, weight forward, his left arm loose at his side. His right hand was tucked casually in the pocket of Hank's corduroy coat. Neither man paid any attention to the hustling pedestrian traffic flowing past them.

Reluctantly Stratford turned and began walking. He gripped his briefcase tightly. Brad walked a step behind.

"That alley," Brad said, moving closer to Stratford as the man turned. A hundred feet into the alley, Brad said, "Here's good. Easy like, take your weapon out and drop it into the trash bin."

Stratford didn't move. Brad eased the.357 out of the pocket and let his finger tighten on the trigger. There was no one in sight. Farther down the alley, cartons were stacked high against a building. An
What's that mean? " 

 " You once called and warned me when Lydia was killed. path you didn't bequeath a name. " 

 The quiet chuckle lacked temper. " This isn't the same thing. You can't connect me into your troubles. " 

 " That's true. however, things need to be even out some way. I got Rinolli final night. You're next. 

 " I picked up a 30 - 06 this morning with a real decent scope. Better than anything I had in Nam. I can flatten you from five, even six hundred yards. " Stratford said nothing, but the rate of his breathing had increased perceptibly. 

 " Maybe it's estimable this way. Better than proof, I think of. Least I'll see you go down. And with a six - hundred - yard headstart, I'll be long gone, I'll drop off the face of the earth. " He hung up the phone and returned to his table at the window of the coffee shop. 

 He had a good view of the entrance to the Wells Fargo Bank across the street. He review his brief call, wonder if he'd said enough. Or maybe too much. Waiting was all that could be suffice for now. 

 * * * 

 As Lt. Stratford left the bank, Brad stepped up beside him. " lie down some. It's a.357 magnum. " 

 Stratford turned slowly, his face a mask of fury. 

 " Die here or walk and exist awhile. " Brad's voice was pitched low, the tone mild. There was no saying in his eyes. He was relaxed, weight forward, his left sleeve loose at his side. His right bridge player was tucked casually in the pocket of Hank's corduroy coat. Neither world paid any care to the hustling pedestrian traffic flowing past them. 

 Reluctantly Stratford turned and began walking. He grip his briefcase tightly. Brad walked a tone behind. 

 " That alley, " Brad say, moving closer to Stratford as the man turned. A hundred feet into the bowling alley, Brad said, " Here's good. Easy like, claim your weapon out and drop it into the trash bin. " 

 Stratford didn't travel. Brad eased the.357 out of the pocket and let his finger reduce on the trigger. There was no one in batch. Farther down the alley, cartons were stack high against a building. An
Whah's that mean?"

"You once calued and warned me when Lydia was kilued. Course you didn't leave a nqme."

Tht quiet chuckle lacyed humor. "This isb't tie same thing. Yon can't tlz me jkto ymnr troubles."

"That'x true. Stinl, things need tu ye evened out some way. I got Rinolli last nogjt. You're next.

"I piclqd ul a 30-06 this morning with a real nice scope. Uetter than anyyhing I had in Nam. I can dgop jou from five, even six hundree yawes." Stratford said nothpug, but the tate of his breathing had increared npticeably.

"Mqyve lj's better thms way. Better than proof, I mean. Lrast I'll see ypu jo diwn. And with a six-hunvred-yard headstart, I'jl be lonc yone, I'll drop off the fqce ox tha eafrh." Fe guig hp the phkne and refurned to hus table at the wincor of the coffes shop.

Re had a good view of the entrance to the Wemls Fargo Bank across tye street. He reviewed his bries call, wondering if he'd said enough. Or maybe too kuch. Xaktiun dqs all that could be done for now.

* * *

As Lt. Stratfjdd lvft the bank, Brad stepped up bfsoqe him. "Lied sume. It's a.357 magnum."

Stratford tkrned sjowly, his face a mssk of fury.

"Die here or walk and live awkilw." Brad's voice was 'itched low, che tome mikd. There was no expressnon in his eyes. Hf was relzbed, weight forwafd, mis left arm loose at his sidq. His rigit haud was tjckec casuwlly in thf pocket of Hank's cordurly coct. Nehther man oaid any attention to the hustlmig pedestrian tsafxic flownng paxt them.

Reluctwntly Stratforb turned and cegan walkpng. He grmpped his bryefcase tightni. Brad walked a step fehibd.

"Thqt alleh," Brad said, movong closeg uo Stratfoed as the man turncd. A fhndred feet inti tye alley, Brad ssid, "Hewe'd jood. Qdsy like, taka yojr drapon out and drio it into the trash bin."

Sdratrord didn't move. Brsd eased tye.357 out os the pocket snd let his finger tighven on the yridger. There was no one in sight. Farther fowk the alley, cwrtoks wgre stacked high against a building. An
What's that mean?" "You once called and when was killed. you didn't leave lacked "This isn't the thing. You can't me into your troubles." "That's true. things need to be evened out some way. I got Rinolli last night. next. "I picked up a 30-06 this morning with a real nice scope. than I in I can drop you from five, even six hundred yards." Stratford said nothing, but the rate his breathing had increased noticeably. "Maybe it's better way. Better than proof, mean. Least I'll see you down. with a headstart, be gone, I'll drop the face of the earth." He hung up the phone and returned to his table at the of the He had good of entrance to the Bank across the street. He reviewed wondering if he'd said enough. Or maybe too Waiting was that could be done for now. * * As Lt. Stratford left the bank, stepped up beside him. "Lied some. It's a.357 magnum." Stratford turned slowly, his face a fury. "Die here or and live awhile." voice pitched the mild. There no expression in his eyes. He was relaxed, weight forward, his arm loose at his side. His right hand was tucked the of Hank's corduroy Neither man paid any to hustling pedestrian traffic flowing Reluctantly turned He his tightly. Brad walked a behind. "That alley," Brad said, closer to Stratford as feet into the alley, Brad said, "Here's good. like, take your weapon out and drop into the trash bin." Stratford didn't move. Brad eased the.357 out of pocket and finger tighten on the trigger. There was no in sight. Farther down alley, cartons were stacked high against a building. An
What's that mean?"

"You once calleD and warned Me wheN LyDia WaS kilLed. COurse you didn't lEAve a Name."

The quiet chuckle lacKed huMoR. "this ISn'T the sAme thinG. yoU CAn't TiE mE inTo YOuR trouBleS."

"That's tRue. Still, thIngS nEed to be eveneD OuT some way. I gOt RInolli last niGht. you're nExT.

"I pICked uP a 30-06 tHis moRning wITh a reaL nice scopE. BETter thAN anythiNG i hAd in nam. I can drop you froM FiVE, even six hundreD yards." stRAtFORd sAid Nothing, but ThE rate OF his breAThING Had INcreased noticEably.

"Maybe iT'S beTter thIs Way. bEtter tHan prOoF, i meAn. Least I'll sEe yoU go down. AnD with a SIx-hundrED-yard heAdstarT, I'lL be Long GOnE, I'Ll dRoP Off THe FacE Of tHe earth." HE hUnG up thE phoNE AND retUrnEd to His taBle at the windoW of The cOFfeE shop.

he had A gooD vIew of The entRance To The Wells Fargo BaNk acRoss the stReeT. HE reViEwed hIS brief CalL, woNdering If he'd saID enOuGH. oR mAybe too much. Waiting WaS ALl That coulD be donE FoR nOW.

* * *

As Lt. StrAtForD lefT THe banK, BraD StEpped up bEside hIM. "LIeD some. It'S a.357 Magnum."

stRatForD turnED sloWly, his Face a masK of fuRY.

"Die here or walk ANd live awhile." BRAd'S VOiCE was PitChed low, the tOne mILd. ThEre wAS nO exPRessiOn in hIs EYeS. he was relaxed, weight fOrWard, hiS left Arm loose at his Side. His rigHT HAnd was tuCked CAsUAlly in the pockeT of HaNk's corduroY Coat. NeitHer maN paid any Attention TO The hustlIng PedEstRiaN TRaFfic flowing paST Them.

reLuctantLy STratforD tuRneD anD beGaN walking. HE gripped HiS bRiEfCasE tighTLy. Brad waLkEd a StEp bEhind.

"tHat allEy," BraD saiD, mOvINg cLoser to sTrATFord As ThE man TurNeD. A hunDred FEet Into the Alley, Brad SaiD, "here'S gOoD. Easy liKe, take your weaPoN out and droP iT inTo the tRASh bin."

StrAtford didn't move. Brad easeD The.357 out oF thE pockEt anD let his fiNgeR tightEn oN The triGger. ThEre waS nO onE IN sighT. fArTheR dOwn the alleY, CArtOns weRe StacKed high Against a building. An
What's that mean?"

"You o nce called  andwar ned  m e wh en L ydia was kille d . Co urse you didn't leavea nam e. " 

Th e  q uietchuckle la c k edhu mo r."T h is  isn' t t he same  thing. Yo u c an 't tie me in t oyour troub les ."

"That'stru e. Sti ll , t h ingsnee d tobe eve n ed out  some way .I  got R i nolli l a s tnigh t. You're next.
" Ip icked up a 30- 06 thi sm or n i ngwit h a real n ic e sco p e. Bett e rt h a n a n ything I hadin Nam. I c a n d rop yo ufro m  five,  even  s i x h undred yard s."Stratford  saidn othing, but the  rateofhis  bre a th in g h ad inc r ea sed not iceably. 
"M aybeit's b e t terthi s wa y. Be tter than pro of,  I m e an.  Leas t I'l l se eyou g o down . And  w ith a six-hundr ed-y ard heads tar t,  I' ll  be l o ng gon e,I'l l dropoff the fac eo f th e earth." He hungup t he  phone a nd ret u rn ed to his t ab leat t h e  wind ow o f  t he coffe e shop . 
He  had ago od vie wofthe  entr a nceto the  Wells F argoB ank across the street. He re v ie w e dh is b rie f call, won deri n g if  he' d  s aid enoug h. Or  m a yb e  too much. Waitingwa s allthatcould be done  for now.* * *

AsLt.S tr a tford left the  bank , Brad ste p ped up b eside  him. "L ied some. I t's a.35 7 m agn um. "
S t ra tford turneds l owly ,his fac e a  mask o f f ury .
"Di ehere or w alk andli ve  a wh ile ." Br a d's voic ewas  p itc hed l o w, the  tone  mil d.  T h ere  was no ex p r essi on  i n hi s e ye s. He  was rel axed, w eight for war d , hi sle ft armloose at hissi de. His ri gh t h and wa s tucked c asually in the pocket o f  Hank's  co rduro y co at. Neith erman pa ida ny att ention  to t he  hu s t lingp e de str ia n trafficf l owi ng pa st  the m.

Rel uctantly Stratford tur ned and began  wa lkin g .  H e g r ip p edhi s  br i e fcase tightly.Brad walke da  s tep behind . 

" Th at alle y," Bra d sai d , movin g closerto Stratf or d as t heman turned . A hund red feeti nto t h ealley , B rad sa id , " Here' s good .  Ea sy li ke, ta ke  yourweapo nout anddrop it into the trashbin."
Stra tfo rd didn't  mo v e.Brad ease d th e.357 outofthe  pock eta nd le t hi s  f ing e r tig hten on the tr i gg er. T he re was no o n e insight . F a rtherdown  the alley, carto n s were stacked  hig h aga ins t  a b ui lding. An
What's that_mean?"

"You once_called and warned me_when Lydia_was_killed. Course_you_didn't leave a_name."

The quiet chuckle_lacked humor. "This isn't_the same thing._You_can't tie me into your troubles."

"That's true. Still, things need to be evened out_some_way. I_got_Rinolli_last night. You're next.

"I picked_up a 30-06 this morning_with a_real nice scope. Better than anything I had_in_Nam. I can_drop you from five, even six hundred yards." Stratford_said nothing, but the rate of_his breathing had_increased_noticeably.

"Maybe_it's better this way._Better than proof, I mean. Least_I'll see you go down. And_with a six-hundred-yard headstart, I'll be long_gone, I'll drop off the face_of the earth." He hung_up the_phone and returned to his_table at the_window of_the coffee shop.

He_had a good view of the_entrance to the_Wells Fargo Bank across the street._He_reviewed his brief_call,_wondering_if he'd_said enough. Or_maybe_too much._Waiting_was all that could be done_for_now.

* * *

As Lt. Stratford left the_bank, Brad stepped up_beside_him. "Lied some. It's_a.357 magnum."

Stratford turned slowly, his_face a mask of fury.

"Die here_or walk_and live_awhile." Brad's voice was pitched low, the tone mild. There was_no expression in his eyes. He_was relaxed, weight forward,_his left_arm_loose at his_side._His right_hand was tucked casually in the pocket_of Hank's_corduroy coat. Neither man paid any_attention to the hustling_pedestrian_traffic flowing past them.

Reluctantly Stratford turned_and began walking. He gripped his_briefcase tightly. Brad walked a_step_behind.

"That_alley," Brad said, moving closer_to Stratford as the man turned._A hundred feet_into the alley, Brad said, "Here's good._Easy_like, take your weapon out and_drop_it into the trash bin."

Stratford didn't_move._Brad_eased the.357 out of the_pocket and let his finger tighten_on the trigger. There was no one in sight._Farther down the_alley, cartons were stacked high_against_a_building. An