In a shower of glass, a white object tumbled onto the table. Both women had leaped back in their seats, but it was too late and there was nowhere to go. Flecks of blood from the shards of glass welled up on their hands, arms and faces.
“There goes the air conditioning,” Peggy said, almost hissing, picking up the object. It was wound around with fishing line. She took the smaller dagger from the shelf and cut the line. It parted instantly.
“I thought that was ornamental and ceremonial,” Dana said.
“I keep it honed razor sharp,” Peggy answered, in a low mean voice. Dana did a double take and looked at her closely. Peggy’s eyes were narrowed and hard. She unwrapped a paper from around a jagged stone and carefully unfolded and flattened it.
“GET RID OF THE INTERLOPER,” it said in large block letters.
Dana shivered and looked at the dagger and the hard look in Peggy’s eyes.