He didn't look dangerous, not at first glance.
Still, a girl can never be too careful on a blind date, and that's why I'd insisted Mr. Sand meet me in a popular steakhouse nestled in a casino dead center on the Las Vegas strip. It was, I thought, the most public of all places.
Yet now, watching the way shadows from the muted lighting sought out the unhealthy hollows beneath his eyes and cheeks, and the way he toyed with his blue cheese and endive appetizer, I decided the most ominous thing about Mr. Sand was a deeply embedded sense of self-control, and the only thing I was in danger of dying of was boredom.
Of course, that was before I really knew him. . ..
And before my death the very next day.
