Here is your weekly reminder that there are also new articles up on our other website KRL News & Reviews! Every week there will be book reviews and giveaways, plus sometimes pet articles, theatre articles, and more! And listen to our new podcast!
I keep the lights on all night now. You would too if your last Halloween was like mine. Instead of trick-or-treating that night, I went around collecting signatures for a fictitious petition as a prank. The wording was simple: "Do you agree to limit the number of Mollycoddles in town?"
I arrive at my usual time, my hand clasped around the stem a single lily. An offering, a tribute to her cherished life.
Bonnie sat at her dressing table staring into the mirror as she tried to insert an earring into her pierced lobe. It was a silver drop earring with round, rich purple, amethyst stones. Her favorite color. Bill gave the pair to her as a “just because” present.
“I don’t go out nights no more,” Ernie insisted.
“Come on,” Charlie said. “It’s a sure thing. If anyone sees us outside the place it won’t be a problem. It’s Halloween night and I got spooky costumes for us to wear. We’ll blend in with all the freaks.”
Dare he go on alone? His friend Jamie was heading on home, and that meant Roger either had to call it a night or continue trick-or-treating all alone. In the dark. Past the old Jackson place.
Sam Winston glared at Sheriff Dave Dark from his perch on the examination table in Dr. Amy Rivera's office. "Sunday morning stick-ups aren't supposed to happen in Pinedale, Sheriff."
"Now don't pop a corpuscle, Sam. Amy's already got enough patching to do on your head. And you’ve still got to give me the robber's description."
Here is your weekly reminder that there are also new articles up on our other website KRL News & Reviews! Every week there will be book reviews and giveaways, plus sometimes pet articles, theatre articles, and more! And listen to our new podcast!
Patty stepped off the curb at Second Ave and Fourteenth Street. A bike headed the wrong way crashed into her left thigh. She keeled over. As the biker sped down Second, Patty lay on the street circled by concerned citizens taking iPhone shots and mouthing platitudes. She kept her mouth shut. Did he hit her on purpose? Who cares? He hit her. Two buxom traffic cops took their time disengaging from their cells before strolling over.
My partner Detective Danny Dayton and I stared across the table at Larry Walton in his murdered sister’s kitchen. Apparently, Walton had discovered his sister shot to death in her living room and had then called 911.
