A Pistol at My Head

With a girl like Diane Thornton, blonde, beautiful and curvaceous, there were only two options - either you played it smarter than she did or you ran, and kept on running. Jazz pianist Rusty Barlow was too infatuated to run, and didn't realize what he was being pulled into until it was too late. He ran then, and by the time the long arm of the past reached out and grabbed him he was well on the way to success and couldn't afford to get mixed up with a girl like Diane, or a man like Morgan Jackson...or murder.