He was little more than a shadowy figure, but recognition was instantaneous. Kendall knew who he was almost before she heard the voice. His voice. Heart pounding, throat dry, she jumped back and tried to slam the bathroom door closed with both hands. It was snatched out of her grasp. OhGodohGodohGod. They were close to the same height; in fact, now that she saw him again Kendall was stunned at how weedy he looked. In her nightmares he was always huge and brutish. But the reality was Dwight Gus Treadwell was medium. Medium height. Medium coloring. Medium features. But his strength was almost superhuman as he grabbed her by the front of her thick coat and yanked her out into the hallway. She fought him wildly, kicking and scratching, screaming at the top of her lungs. He struck her across the face, a punishing blow that had her sagging in his hold. “Tsk. Tsk. Now is that any way to welcome an old friend?”
