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“"Hello, Mr. Gaston. Barrie Travis. Do you remember me?" "All too well. What do you want?" "I brought you this," she said, holding out a potted blue hydrangea. "May I come in?" He hesitated, deciding whether he would speak with her. Finally, he stepped aside. "For a few minutes." Ralph Gaston, Jr., was a mild-mannered man in his midthirties who had gone soft around the middle. He lived in a neat brick house in the middle of the block in a middleclass suburb of D.C. Barrie had located him through... the telephone directory.
She was led through rooms that were clean but littered with toys. "My wife took the kids to the mall," he explained as he stepped over a Playskool lawn mower.
"I'm sorry I missed them. I wanted to convey my condolences to them as well." She followed him onto a screened back porch, where it appeared he'd been watching an NCAA football game on a EXCLUSIVE 271 portable TV. He turned down the volume and took a sip of the beer on the end table. He did not offer her anything to drink.MoreLess
She was led through rooms that were clean but littered with toys. "My wife took the kids to the mall," he explained as he stepped over a Playskool lawn mower.
"I'm sorry I missed them. I wanted to convey my condolences to them as well." She followed him onto a screened back porch, where it appeared he'd been watching an NCAA football game on a EXCLUSIVE 271 portable TV. He turned down the volume and took a sip of the beer on the end table. He did not offer her anything to drink.MoreLess
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