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Alan slid the pay phone door shut while he waited for Wally to come on the line. “Walter, how are you? Can we still meet this afternoon?” “Hiya Alan. Sure, come on by.” Wally sounded slightly out of breath.
By Richard N. Anderson Alan stood in the doorway of Tom Hartley’s office. Tom was throwing small magnetic darts at a metal bullseye on his wall.
By Richard N. Anderson A tall guy with long blond hair over his ears and a floppy mustache stood in the doorway like he had something to say. “Yeees?” Alan put down the phone receiver. He was on hold.