Eye of the Beholder

little nap." Trask did not look at Alexa's face. He walked straight toward Red Mask, the tire iron dangling loosely from his hand. "Let the lady go."
    " Sig ?" Red Mask tightened his arm around Alexa's throat. " Sig ? Where are you? We gotta get outta here."
    "Let her go," Trask repeated softly.
    "Get away from me." Red Mask sounded truly freaked now. "Stay back, you hear me? Or I'll hurt her. I swear, I will."
    Trask stopped. He kept his voice low and calm. "Let her go and get out of here while you still can. I hear some people coming out of the restaurant. They'll see what's happening."
    "We were just supposed to give you the warning, man." Red Mask's voice rose on a shrill whine. "That's all."
    "Tell Guthrie to deliver his own warning next time."
    Car lights flashed on at the far end of the parking lot. Red Mask's head whipped around to stare in that direction.
    Trask saw Alexa's knee come up. She brought the high heel of her sandal back smartly against Red Mask's shin.
    Red Mask screamed with rage and lurched to the side. He fetched up hard against the grille of the car parked directly behind him. He still had his arm around Alexa's throat. She fell back heavily. Her weight destroyed what was left of Red Mask's balance.
    Trask dropped the tire iron and leaped across the small distance that separated him from the struggling pair.
    Red Mask had had enough. He shoved Alexa into Trask's path and tore off down the aisle of parked cars. The second man, the one called Sig , had managed to drag himself to his feet. He chased after Red Mask, albeit unsteadily.
    Trask caught Alexa close. "You okay?"
    "Yes." She sounded breathless and scared but still in command of herself. "What about you?"
    Trask listened to the echo of two vehicle doors slamming shut. Headlights flashed. He glimpsed a battered pickup as it roared out of a parking space and careened toward the exit.
    He thought about how Red Mask had put his filthy arm around Alexa's throat.
    "Me?" he said. "I'm swell . No more than semi-hysterical."
    She uttered something that sounded like a cross between a mad laugh and a sob and huddled against him. "Oh, my God, Trask. Oh, my God. That man with the tire iron ..."
    "It's all right." He stroked her back with an awkward motion and tried to think of something reassuring to say. "It was me they were after. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time."
    "If that's supposed to make me feel better, you're on the wrong track."
    A heavy white Lincoln pulled out of a space at the end of the aisle and drifted swiftly toward them. It came to a halt when it was directly opposite. The driver's window slid down.
    Trask looked at the bulky, florid-faced man behind the wheel. The yellow light from the parking lot lamps gleamed on his balding skull and gave his features an unhealthy sheen.
    "Hello, Guthrie," Trask said softly. He felt Alexa freeze against his side. "Your two goons went that away. You know, if you paid more than minimum wage, you'd probably be able to hire better talent."
    "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Trask." Guthrie's hoarse, rasping voice was slurred with alcohol. "I didn't see anything."
    "I've heard that too much booze affects the eye-sight."
    Fury flashed in Guthrie's face. "I know you've come back here to make trouble, you SOB. But you damn well better not mess with me. You understand? Nobody messes with Dean Guthrie."
    "He's drunk," Alexa whispered. "Let's get out of here."
    Trask ignored her. "There's something you need to understand, Guthrie. This is between you and me. You made a mistake tonight. You involved Ms. Chambers. That's against the rules."
    "I don't give a fucking damn about your threats, Trask." Guthrie's voice rose. "Got that? Not a fucking damn. Come near me again and I'll go to the cops."
    Trask realized that Guthrie had raised his voice because they had drawn a small audience. Two middle-aged couples had emerged from the restaurant and now stood watching the scene with shocked expressions. The gossip about the confrontation in the Red Canyon Country Club parking lot would be all over town in the morning.
    "I think we'd better have this conversation some other time," Trask said.
    "Bullshit. We'll have it now. You still think I had something to do with your father's death, don't you, you crazy bastard?"
    Trask watched him. "Did you?"
    " Goddamnit , you're as stubborn as he was." Guthrie's face worked. "I knew you'd come back. I knew it that night you charged into my house. My