"By the time Henry Cummings' young wife had collected herself sufficiently to speak, the pretty receptionist had already returned to her desk and was answering one of the insistently buzzing lines on the switchboard in front of her. With a fleeting, nervous glance around the spacious, modern waiting room, Kathy ascertained that, curiously, there was no one else in line to see the president of Alexander Steel. She stiffened with irrational apprehension as she wondered again exactly what she would say to the powerful mysterious man who was her husband's boss. Now that she was here, sitting in the very building in which Henry worked, the nervous young woman wondered if perhaps she had made a foolish mistake by coming here. For the flash of an instant, she was tempted to turn right around and go back home again, to its relative safety, but the mental image of her and Henry's home made her remember exactly why she had come downtown today... and why she would not go home until at least some. Then his eyes begin to narrow, and his jaw tightens. His shoulders take on a sag. I see his thoughts before he speaks.“Christ, don’t you people have anything better to do?” he says in a disgusted tone. “This is some half-assed attempt at a practical joke, I suppose. Ha-ha.” He begins to rise from his seat.“You may think that if you wish,” I tell him comfortably. He turns toward the door. “But then you will never know from where came the fur of the cave bear, will you?”He stops his movement as soon as I speak the last, and turns quickly. “How did you—?” he begins. “I never—” His voice makes an accusation. “You knew what it was all along, didn’t you?”“Yes,” I say.“How did you know? Where did it come from?”I laugh. “From the bear, of course. He had no more need of it after I killed him.”“You’re telling me you hunted a cave bear?” he demands with a scowl.“No sane person hunts a cave bear alone,” I tell him. “The bear, however, had no such compunction. Ordinarily they didn’t trouble us.
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