It’s one thing to break into a dead man’s house, or even the house of a fugitive from the law, to search for evidence that can help your case. It’s another entirely to break into the home of a living, presumably law abiding, citizen, especially an officer of the law....

It took most of a half hour to find Deputy Spiesz’s home. This worked in my favor, since he’d gone to lunch late. I could have just followed him from the station, but didn’t want to risk being seen.  So I waited and tried to find the place on my own.  Addresses in the...

“That’s free money. That’s free money. I didn’t even know about craps, but I could tell, that’s free money.” Energy rippled through his wiry frame. Five foot five, a buck and a quarter at best, he strung words out like dynamite fuse. “With craps there’s a feel. You...

I reached for the landline phone on the nightstand, its faded beige pigment blending in with the drab walls of my room at the Nickelback motel. Its mylar heft added solidarity the Nokia couldn’t provide.  The Nickelback’s neon sign glowed through the window, casting a...

The cool porcelain toilet seat was doing nothing to warm my ass when Deputy Stan Spiesz showed up. I sat there, with the lid down, to remain as close as possible to the evidence. In case my attacker returned to lay claim to it. “You all right, Mr. Pierce?” Deputy...

Every inch I put between me and Lorna Peale’s tantalizing snare rattled me more. It was that kind of forbidden opportunity, rooted in adolescent fantasy, and fueled by tenacious images from the girlie magazines of puberty, that fired my belly with irrational schemes...

Lorna met me at the door with steam rolling off her hair. The towel she’d wrapped herself in must have been her daughter’s. She arched like a goddess, misty fog of her own creation surrounding her, the makeshift garment revealing the soft curves of her motherly figure...

I spent a few minutes cooling my jets in the Tacoma, watching shadows float to and fro behind the living room window. Lorna’s demeanor bothered me. The way she'd dismissed Kayla’s trauma, hawking over her like a jail guard. What did she fear? The custody battle was...

Kayla played in the yard alone. She glanced up as I entered the gate.  With bloodshot eyes scuttled in sleep-deprived eye sockets, I must have appeared demonic. Yesterday’s rumpled clothes surely didn’t improve my image. The previous night’s discovery kept me from...