Published by Stroker Chase at Smashwords
Copyright 2013 Stroker Chase
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Grant startled from bed. There was a pounding on his door. He threw on his boots and vest, hurrying, wondering what in the world happened that he would be woken so early. Grant never got many visitors, so this was even more of surprise. It was most likely a motorist who got stuck on the side of the road or else a lost door to door salesman.
He saw the shadow in the early morning sunlight emerge from behind the screen. Two of them. One looked like a woman, he could tell from her poofy hair, and the other was the size of a man. Before Grant answered the door, he figured it was best to be safe, and he picked up his revolver from the cabinet, sliding it into the holster on the inside of his vest.
“One second,” he said. Grunting, he answered the door, one hand resting near his vest, the other holding it, ready to slam it in their face.
There were never any visitors.
Upon opening the door, his hand shot back to his side. He recognized the two immediately. Mr. and Mrs. Rivers, who were technically neighbors, but who lived miles away. Why they would be knocking on his door still worried him. They were friendly, but hardly ever spoke, at least since his wife Jeannie died.
“Good morning, Grant.”
“Good morning,” he said, his eyes still fixing between them.
“Can we come in?”
He looked behind him. Weary, he said, “Not to be rude, but this is pretty unusual. What’s the business of the meeting? Haven’t seen you two in years.”