The Terror of Living by Urban Waite

rides when he could."
        "How long ago was that?"
        "A little over ten years ago."
        "Your father still keep horses?"
        "Not where he is."
        Sorry.
        "You weren't the one to take him," Drake said. Then, after a moment, he said, "Were you?"
        Driscoll smiled, he looked down at the table, and when he looked back up he said, "Riding's not so common these days, is it?"
        "Not as common as it used to be."
        "Why would you say that?"
        "They're expensive animals, not as utilitarian as they were before."
        "No, I suppose not. How much would you say it is to board a horse?"
        "These days it can be expensive. Not something I could afford."
        The agent picked up the report and straightened it on the table. He brought up a leather case and put the report away. "If you were the second man, what would you do?"
        "I don't know anything about that."
        "Speculate."
        "I suppose I would try to get as far away as I could from what was known."
        "This man must work with horses fairly regularly."
        "Yes, I would say he does."
        "I don't mean to pry, but I'd like to ask you something personal. Would that be all right?"
        "Haven't you been all through my personal life as it is?" Drake watched the agent and tried to see how he took it. The agent sat there across the table, lips slightly parted, question waiting on the cusp. Then Drake said, "Does it have bearing on the case?"
        "In a sort of fractured sense it does."
        "Why do you say 'fractured'?"
        "The cracks leading off from the point of impact."
        I see.
        "Don't take this the wrong way, Deputy. Do you have a wife?"
        "I wear the ring."
        "Any children?"
        "Not yet."
        "In cases like this, it is common that people go missing before they appear in court. Naturally, we are very concerned about this."
        "Naturally."
        "By this time tomorrow afternoon the paper will have the story out and I want you to be ready."
        "We'll be fine. It's not the first time I've been through something like this."
        "Yes," Driscoll said, "that's true. But still, we'd like it if you and your wife would come down to the city for a few days. On us, of course."
        "You make it sound almost like a threat," Drake said. "No, Drake, we are certainly not the threatening ones."
     
           
        EDDIE CLAPPED THE PHONE CLOSED AND PUT IT DOWN on the table. He was staring at Hunt.
        "I know that look," Hunt said. The pistol lay in front of him on the table and for a moment Eddie looked at it. Then he looked away.
        "I'm not going to tell you it's going to be okay. I think you know that."
        Hunt shifted his eyes over to Nora, who was standing at the window looking out.
        "What is it, Eddie?" Nora asked, not turning from the window. "What is it that he'll have to do?"
        "It's not so simple," Eddie said.
        "I'm sorry about this, Eddie," Hunt said. "I wish there was a better thing I could say. But I don't think it would make a difference."
        "It's strange how things turn out sometimes."
        "Yes, it is, Eddie."
        Nora came over to the table and sat down. A loose hair drifted into her eyes and she tucked it up. "There must be something that can be done."
        Eddie looked at Hunt. "They'd like for you to make a sort of donation."
        "Donation?"
        "Yes, of your time."
        "Isn't that what I just did? You don't see me crying because I didn't get paid for my time."
        "You also didn't deliver."
        "Whose fault is that? They were trying to move too much product."
        "Yes, you could say that. But in their eyes it certainly is not their fault."
        "What is it they want from me?"
        Eddie turned to look at Nora. "You should go into the other room now. It's best if you just go into the