Face down on the street, hands locked behind my head, I lay still while Plainville’s Finest held a gun on me and Second-Best rifled through my pockets. Where had I gone wrong? My client had announced he chose me based… Continue Reading
When Murray said, “Jump,” the big cats leapt through candy-striped rings. When he said, “Sit,” all three of them perched, snarling, on their stools. When he said, “Speak,” Rona the clown stuck her head through a paper drumhead with “Ars… Continue Reading
“Hey, I think we broke something,” he said, shaking me awake. Ann’s dad always looks like the snapshot she’d had of him, taken on the Burma Road: bare-chested, center-parted hair, broad smile, burly. The clock said 2:45. Ann’s side of… Continue Reading