"Beautiful Blondes Aren't Usually Philosophers"

The guy made a wry face and shook his head. "You'll...never do it"
My tongue ran over my lips without moistening them. "Do what?"
"Get her in time."
"Who?"
"The woman." His eyes closed and for a moment his face relaxed. "The woman Velda."
I sat there as if I were paralyzed; for a second totally immobilized, a suddenly frozen mind and body that had solidified into one great silent scream at the mention of a name I had long ago consigned to a grave somewhere. Then the terrible cold was drenched with an even more terrible wash of heat and I sat there with my hands bunched into fists to keep them from shaking.