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Show 194 could see was that gun-it filled her vision as nothing had before in her life, the gaping hole of the barrel. Mr. Richards came through the curtain with his cigar in his mouth and a small cardboard box in his hand. "Don't move!" Mr. Richards just stood there with the box in his hand. He nodded his head that he understood. The gun had not gone off-for a moment Sharon could not believe that the gun had not gone off. But Mr. Richards was still standing there with the box in his hand. The man yanked the bag from Steve's hand, and bounded up behind to the prescription area. He motioned with his gun for her to follow. He nodded at the refrigerator, his face a sticky yellow in the fluorescent light. She opened the refrigerator door, and pulled the drawers out one at a time. He glanced but once at each drawer, at the dozens of vials and bottles in each, but somehow instantly determined what was there. Signalling with a curt nod of his head to pull out the next drawer down. After the last drawer, he nodded to the safe behind the refrigerator. Sharon swung open the door of the small safe, which was always unlocked during business hours, and stood back. The man crouched down, his eyes darting around the inside of the safe, and then over to Mr. Richards. "Where's the shit?" Mr. Ricards took a deep breath, readjusting the box in his hand. In his face was the raw fear that he would not be believed. "Everything |