I guess that he had shot were he expected me to be, rather than waiting until he actually saw me, because the bullet missed my head and buried itself ...nto the door. I had thrown the door open, but I had not stepped into the room—that was what saved my life.I was holding a cocked .44-40 pistol in my right hand and another in my left. It was the pause to draw the second pistol which had caused me to hesitate before entering the room. I saw a man sitting behind a desk and pointing a smoking gun at. How he could keep his sets of books straight, I'd never be able to figure but they'd always survived federal bank inspection for over twenty years. Rumor was that this bank still funneled CIA money for ongoing operations in Cuba and was 'hands-off' to normal banking inspectors."I have my own money here." DeeDee said with a shrug as we entered and that comment more than anything calmed down my overtaxed nerves. I'd lived part of my life almost entirely outside the law and I found the community. More

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