But if it had been my longtime police friend Sergeant Rudolph Storr himself standing in front of me, I'd have lied. I had my hands clasped over my stomach and was trying to picture a roaring fire and a cold winter evening. No, don't. Truthfully, I wasn't up to arm wrestling Olaf, and I couldn't really shoot him just for yelling at me.
I thought about that for nearly a full minute while we stood in the heat-soaked parking lot. I think if he'd just dropped Becca, he might have gotten them all out of harm's way, but that last effort cost him the second he needed. You know the old saying, half in jest, all in seriousness? he asked. You heard the exclamations through the audience, how pale, how frightening, oh, my god.
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