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My best friend in the house, Nick Jones, elbowed me in the ribs. Nick and I pull each other into line whenever we can, but it’s not always easy. I like the muscle-bound black man because he’s ex-army and has hundreds of horror stories from his time in the Middle East that are so hideous, they pulverize my own trauma like a sledgehammer smashes a walnut.
Susan was ex-FBI
Fentanyl is seventy-five times stronger than morphine. One of its analogs is carfentanil. That’s a thousand times stronger. They use it to tranquilize elephants.”
He didn’t beat around the bush. Cops never do. “I’m sorry, Bill.” Clay eased the words out carefully. “Marni’s dead.”
Francis Whitman, known about town as Squid.
Malone turned to me. “Look, there’s something I’ve got to tell you,” he said. He took a deep breath. “I didn’t just come up here to hang out, to see the place. I wanted to know you’d forgiven me, because if you hadn’t, I wanted to fix it before it was too late. I’ve got cancer, Bill. It’s terminal.”
