Dirty Harry 11 - Death In The Air - Plot & Excerpts
It was the first thing Harry wanted to know after he closed and locked the door behind him. He was about to flick on the lights when her outstretched arm stopped him. “Please . . . please don’t. I’m afraid.” “It’s a little late for that,” Harry reminded her, but took his hand off the switch. “You didn’t seem paralyzed with fear when your apartment was attacked.” He remained standing by the door. She sat near the head of his bed, her legs tucked under her. “You don’t understand . . .” “Make me understand.” “They want to kill me.” “That much is obvious. They want to kill me, too.” She waved her arms abruptly, as if trying to clear the air of all the words which swooped around and stung her like verbal bees. He saw her silhouette against the clear winter moonlight slipping under and around his pulled shades.
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