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Exactly as it had been the year before. She knew, or knew of, almost everybody in town. But she picked up speed as soon as anyone seemed inclined to stop for a chat. They had driven to Grebbestad, where Frans Ringholm lived in a flat next door to the Gstis Hotel. That had definitely been for him. Just as Reilly was leaving for work, he heard a knock at his door. His dark hair was in artful disarray, his clothes no doubt picked out by a stylist. His smile was genuine and made Reilly groan. Not that Reilly had a problem with women, but Eddie always overdid a good time. I like them one at a time these days. We remove the tiger-cubs so that the rest, the sheep, may safely graze, as one might put it. I only fear we might not catch enough tiger-cubs in time.
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The crystal glasses in the china cabinet sang. He leaned forward across the table. Did he think Rick had done something to Charlene. He moved past her without saying anything and climbed the stairs. He forced her to side with Ricky. Her palms were cool against his heated flesh, seeking, searching and finding his nipples, then lower, skimming along the taut flesh of his belly. The buttons on his shirt hindered her exploration, and she let out a frustrated sound. Then, to his dazed amazement, she grabbed the sides of his shirt and yanked, sending the buttons flying across the room. Denying his need for her became a distant thought. He got himself one of those gyro sandwiches at the place on the corner and took it back to his room to eat. He wore a fleece jacket, a wool cap and an armband that said Neighborhood Watch and he was shaking of all things, a golf club at her. Obviously one of those nuts who had some sort of airy-fairy objection to carrying a gun like everybody else.
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