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Page 264
and you haven't really hurt us."
"I intend to, though," the man said, sounding angry. "I always meant to kill you."
Mike's eyes closed for a moment, and the shaking of his head looked almost sympathetic. "Why, Lowell?" he asked.
The man gasped, his hand holding the gun beginning to shake. "You know?"
"I do now."
Lowell removed the tight-fitting black mask from his face. He looked old and scared to Abby, who remained still.
"I helped you start Arlen's Kitchens, but you treated me like a trained seal. 'Order this, Lowell.' 'Use this recipe.' 'Open this bank account and close this one.' 'Go fix the grill.' But did you ever ask for my advice? Listen when I gave it?" Holding the gun in his right hand, he awkwardly used the left to pull his glasses from a pocket and put them on.
"I'm sorry, Lowell. I never realized"
"And then when I finally got my big opportunity, you came back from the desert too soon. Another few weeks and my gourmet idea would have taken off."
"Of course it would, Lowell." Mike's voice sounded soothing.
"Don't patronize me!" The gun hand jerked, and Abby gasped despite herself. Surely he wasn't about to shoot Mike.
He turned toward her, grimacing to let his cheeks push his glasses up on his nose. "Oh,

 
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