Before It Gets Cold

Before It Gets Cold

It was really a very fine mattress. That is, if one discounted the finger-sized hole in the plush fabric. +++++I’d already planned it out in my head. +++++Amelie, dear. That woman Mrs. Landry down the street—she has a very fine mattress. Certainly less than 15 years...
Happy Birthday, Dr. Napier

Happy Birthday, Dr. Napier

Without remorse, my alarm announced the arrival of seven AM. Seven would have been sleeping in two years ago. Two years ago, I lived in Maumelle, a 20 to 30-minute drive to my practice in downtown Little Rock, depending on traffic. But now, living in a loft directly...
Free Hugs

Free Hugs

The Barley Horn was a middlebrow East Boca, Irish pub—not the lovable, seedy dive where well whisky day-drinkers erase their early afternoons, but not the woodsy tavern that has the European football games and hosts an annual Bloom’s Day gathering either. In fact,...
A Close Call

A Close Call

Mark Well’s fixed me with a smug stare. “Are you a private investigator?” +++++My worst fear. I had no idea what brought this on, so I feigned surprise. “Me, a private eye?” +++++“I talked to Sam, the deli owner downstairs. Sam said he never spoke to you.” +++++I knew...
The Death of Hector Urdaneta

The Death of Hector Urdaneta

Hector Urdaneta did not know it yet, but the tingling in his left arm was the precursor to a massive heart attack. That Saturday seemed to pass uneventfully – the usual stroll through Luneta Park with his wife and daughters, lunch at The Aristocrat for steamed pork...