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Predator
Tuesday Afternoon He was about forty, forty five years old, very tall, almost gaunt, and not very well groomed. The man was, in fact, slothful looking in a peculiar, potbellied sort of way, and was wearing greasily tattered green chinos and an old, untucked plaid short-sleeved shirt. His sneakers were foul looking, and probably even fouler smelling, Officer Amy Breedlove thought as she watched the suspect through binoculars from her unmarked patrol car, a battered, twenty-six year old silver...