The man blinked in confusion, but Ruth paid him no mind. Her arthritic fingers curved in invitation as she motioned with her hand and turned back to the tea kettle. It would start whistling any minute now. She could hear the water bubbling, and she wanted to make sure she had Peter’s cup ready too.
“Lady, are you freaking kidding me?” the man said, holding his arms wide, the gun an L-shaped extension of his right hand. “Give me your money and any jewelry, and you won’t get hurt.”
Someone else had been here. Recently.
I hesitated then pulled the torch out of its holder and held it aloft. That’s what I saw it. The object of my travels.