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The Last Winter of 2000
The Last Winter of 2000

Beginnings are impossible.  I’ve been starting the author game for 20-plus years. It rarely appears as work in progress. Fits and starts. That’s my record. Fits lead to starts/restarts lead to fits, ad nauseam. Time to stop beginning and advance.  Accept my invitation...

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MGC Chapter Thirty-Three
MGC Chapter Thirty-Three

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...

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MGC Chapter Thirty-Two
MGC Chapter Thirty-Two

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...

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MGC Chapter Thirty-One
MGC Chapter Thirty-One

I made sure we were out of the line of sight before making a U-turn. “There has to be something in that house that will implicate someone besides my sister.” Tony shook his head. “They’ll sure as shootin’ go through the place as part of their investigation into the...

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MGC Chapter Thirty
MGC Chapter Thirty

I wasn’t out of the building before a firm grasp on my arm spun me around. Sheriff de Lude’s eyes, now the color of burnt brisket, drilled into me. “Pierce, you’re coming along,” he said. “Back to the crime scene.” “I need to talk to my sister.” The fiery gleam of his...

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MGC Chapter Twenty-Nine
MGC Chapter Twenty-Nine

A single step outside the exam room ran me right into Sheriff de Lude’s bulk and ended all self-soothing meditation. His ursine scowl eclipsed the yellow lighting of the hallway.  “My deputy is on his way to a murder scene, Pierce.” The wooly mustache hid none of his...

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MGC Chapter Twenty-Eight
MGC Chapter Twenty-Eight

Dr. Myrtle Gibbons held the door with a gentle hand as I delivered the young girl’s doll-sized body. The child felt like a feather made of crystal in my arms and every step threatened to shatter her into millions of tiny shards.  Walls the color of a robin’s egg...

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MGC Chapter Twenty-Seven
MGC Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tony’s cell phone purred in my ear as I drove, evidence he hadn’t turned it off. He answered with crackle and static, fading in and out, words plucked at by the wind and sky that carried them. “Miss me already?” “I talked to the local Doc,” I said. “Heading back to...

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MGC Chapter Twenty-Six
MGC Chapter Twenty-Six

Disturbed graffiti from the restroom wall echoing in my head, I was forced to wait at the cash register while Faye took an order down range.  She shouted orders with confidence while my fingers drummed the countertop. Her redheaded way of taking charge rivaled my...

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MGC Chapter Twenty-Five
MGC Chapter Twenty-Five

“You are the Lifesaver candy I always believed in.” Renée had her arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, eyes shimmering with relief and delight, openly displaying her gratitude. She nearly glowed—a rare sight in my recollections—untouched by the gray cell walls left empty...

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Mark Wm Smith

An overeducated, blue-collar cowboy, I grew up on along the banks of the Yellowstone River in Eastern Montana. Raised by a long haul trucker and a bartending waitress, I learned the hard ways of the modern frontier, scraping life from the unforgiving high chaparral.

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