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He looked over at Phil Blackburn, who sat at one end of the table, his cellular phone before him. He was rubbing the phone nervously. Phone records, Sanders thought. |
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But then, as they had descended into Sunside's foothills, so the mountains had blocked it out a little and, supposing it to have been a rogue memory out of times best forgotten for what else could it be, since Nestor's Great Enemy was no more? |
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Bob Garvin was standing by the bar, looking at him expectantly. Phil Blackburn stood a few paces behind. Excuse me, Sanders said, and he got up from the table. |
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