Gary scoffed, sneering as he crossed his arms: "Strip off that apron and get out into the rain before I call the sheriff for insubordination."
Behind him, the old man slowly set down his fork.
The trembling, frail posture vanished in an instant. His spine straightened against the vinyl seat, his breathing grew steady and deep, and his piercing gray eyes locked onto Gary with chilling, absolute authority.
Reaching into his inner coat pocket, he pulled out a sleek black smartphone.
He pressed a single direct speed-dial and brought the receiver to his ear.
His deep, gravelly baritone cut through the room like thunder:
"He gave me his dinner."
He paused, his cold gaze piercing right through Gary’s arrogant expression.
"Bring my attorneys."