Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
His heart burst open and flooded his insides. Hot and burning with rage and sorrow, down to his bones.
The sheriff clasped his hands and turned the other way.
“Look at me… look me in my eyes.”
Sheriff Sweeney glared at him, looking like he was about to explode.
“I’m lookin’ at you, Jack. We all are.” Judgment dripped off his tongue.
“You may think you see me, Sweeny, but you don’t. Because if you did, if you really saw me, you’d know that I refuse to let this go until I can walk to my son’s grave and tell him it’s all right. He can rest easy now. We got ’em. If it was your child, you’d turn this entire city upside down. You can’t even—”
“Jack! What you don’t understand is—”
“Actions speak louder than words, Sweeney. Isn’t that how the saying goes? If you gave a damn, you wouldn’t have had one of your flunkies call me and tell me to stop telling people there is prize money for any information that leads to the murderer’s capture.” Sweeney moved his lips to speak, then decided to remain quiet. “What remains clear to me is that you’ve drawn your line in the sand, and now, I’m drawing mine. So, let it be known, I’m swearing before God.” He placed his hand over his chest, as if saying a pledge. “Come hell or high water, I will find out who killed my son before his next birthday. You all have a nice day, and Mickey, the fly is back.”
He pointed to the sandwich on the desk as he turned to walk away. The little black critter was sitting there in all of his buzzy glory, his wings moving back and forth as he rested easy on toasted white bread, sliced tomato and turkey. “Looks like the fly is the only one to admit that he was once a maggot. But here I stand, surrounded by maggots that are pretending to be men…”
“Oh, that’s pretty, Martha!” Kim appreciated the woman’s use of vibrant colors. “Maybe I can make some holiday baskets for next year, and you can put your crocheted dolls in there, too? We could sell them.”
‘One Headlight’, by The Wallflowers, was playing on the television as they spoke.
“That’s a nice idea,” Martha stated meekly as she placed a portfolio full of Polaroid pictures she’d taken of little dolls she made for fun. The woman was quite skilled, and Kim was blown away by her talents. “Thank you for letting me borrow the thirty dollars, Kim. I will repay you next week, I promise.” Martha grabbed her burnt orange coat and struggled to get into it.
“Martha, you’d do the same for me. It’s no big deal.”
“I had spent too much money on my grandchildren on Christmas,” the woman explained as she opened her purse and began to rummage through it. “Now, I’m trying to catch up. Uh, Kim?” She popped a mint in her mouth and closed her purse.
“Yes?” She reached for her glass of water and took a sip.
“I didn’t want to impose.”
“Martha, please. You impose all the time, but I don’t mind. Now what is it?”
“I know you said… that, uh, your relationship with your family is strained, so you didn’t go back to New York for the holidays, but I’m having a party next week. I have it once a year. That’s what I needed the thirty dollars for. It was a deposit on a nice cake from my neighbor. Sasha makes the most beautiful cakes, Kim.” Martha’s cheeks practically glowed as she went through the details of this annual party that she put on for her family and friends. She was quite expressive with her hands, becoming more animated with each moment that passed. “So, if you’d like to come, I’m inviting you.”
“That is so nice of you, Martha.” I don’t really get out and do much. Why not? “Sure, that would be great. What would you like me to bring?”
Martha stood straight with an impish look in her dark, slanted eyes. She sat back down on the couch beside her, flipped her hair over one shoulder, and placed her hand gently across Kim’s lower thigh.
“You told me the other day that I was your only friend.”
“You are. I don’t trust anyone else here.” She had abruptly severed the cord on close friendships, colleagues, and everyone she knew when she left New York. As soon as she arrived in Alaska, she changed her number, and went silent. She missed her networks. Who knew when she’d see them again? She’d cried for several nights after flying to Alaska, missing her acquaintances, and coming close to calling a few times. But it was for the best to stay on radio silence.
“I don’t want to pry, and I don’t want to get into your private life because it’s not my business, but I told you that I think you’re wonderful.”