Tomahawk

Lisa opened the door. She knew who it was going to be before she even twisted the handle, even at this late hour. And, sure enough, Mr. Tomahank was standing there on the step, dressed in a dark suit. He took off his hat as the door swung open, laying it upon his chest. He bowed slightly.



“Miss Farrelly,” Tomahawk said.



“Mr. Tom’,” Lisa returned, also inclining her head. “Please, come in. Do you want some tea?” She shifted out of the way, and he sidled into the long corridor.