It must have been a gunshot. I’d know the sound of a .45 anywhere.
Detective Mark Wheeler lay on the grass. The ground chilled his bones as the fog rolled in.
The sparrow literally dropped through the flue into Helen’s cold fire place at just barely daylight. At first, she thought she imagined it.
Detective Harry Crenshaw glanced at the pamphlet one more time. . .
The dog track was never in our plans for the evening. Scott’s system was for jai alai, not dogs, and tuition for the fall semester was due tomorrow, so he needed to raise it tonight . . .
Lars Thompson opened the fridge and looked for something to eat. It had been several days since he’d had a real meal that didn’t come from a garbage can . . .
The sun crept over the horizon as Danny Noonan continued to have sex with Tammy Hayes. His heart beat faster with each thrust . . .
I ran into Linda, unexpectedly, the other day at Publix. She used to be pretty, but in her late forties, she’s all bloat, veneers, and Oxy eyes . . .