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Jake moved the revolver to his back waistband, covered it with his jacket, slipped over the seawall, and walked slowly toward the car with his hands open and slightly out to the side.Vivian caught his movement from the corner of her eye and turned towards him. He immediately saw the glint off the small handgun she held. He stopped dead in his tracks, reasonably sure he was out of range for an accurate shot.“It’s Jake,” he called to her. “Put the gun on the hood and step back a few feet.”She looked at her hand and hastily complied. Jake kept his hands in view and started walking towards her again. As he got closer, he began to wonder if he was meeting the right person. The woman in front of the Chrysler sedan did not look like Vivian. For one thing, she did not have long blonde hair, instead she wore her black hair in a pageboy. For another, she wore glasses and Vivian did not. Finally, this woman wore a nondescript ill-fitting ordinary print dress, something Vivian would not be. A longtime client had brought her in for modification. Clearly, this was to be anotherof his household treasures. Exactly what, he had no idea as yet. So it was thathe departed his office and made his way to receive his guest.?Francis, how are you?? Jerry issued as he cheerfully entered the client waitingroom. The girl was seated in a restraint chair beside a well-dressed man. She hadbeen carefully bound arms, legs and head to the sturdy chair. A gag fit intoher mouth, cutting off any possibility of speech. She watched, fearfully, asthe men joined in discussion.?I see you have another girl for us to work on for you. Though, I am curiouswhat you could want this time. Your house must be full of our creations.?Francis smiled, proffering a hand to the man in the white cravat. He had neverseen Jerry fail to wear it and wondered if it were attached to him. ?I?ve somethinga little different in mind, Jerry.??Let?s see, we have made a chair, a desk, a coffee table, a lamp?we even crafteda.
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