People set them off all the time, false alarms. But he knew a nice neighborhood full of those signs meant a lot of taxpayers with shit to protect. Police kept an eye out for such types, people with more than a jar full of change and a stack of CDs and DVDs to sell at Everyday Music. Include a cop, no matter how good or bad his house looked, and the street was everything he hoped to find. Even if he hadn’t known he was looking.
Eager made a mental note, satisfied. Skated. Later, he ran into Skin again. Jawed a little, talked about his deck, his wheels, his trucks. Eager, rarely a talker, found himself describing the transitions at Burnside and O’Bryant Square. Skin sat on the top step of his porch and listened, maybe even a little interested. Eager liked him.And the way he figured it, it was good to have a friend who was a cop. Especially once the house across the street went up for sale. Perfect house, safe house, even if Skin didn’t understand Eager’s interest. Luellen would love it, once she convinced that slob she had on the hook that he needed to buy it for her.
November 13
Police Investigate Two Deaths in Rural Klamath County
MIDLAND, OR: Police are investigating the deaths of Gene and Sue Ann Famke, discovered Tuesday at their home six miles northwest of Midland after dispatchers received a 9-1-1 call from a neighbor reporting screams and possible gun fire.
The couple appeared to be victims of a deadly assault, said Deputy Raelene Suggins of the Klamath County Sheriff’s Office. Gene Famke, 43, was found on the front lawn. A recently fired .38 caliber revolver registered to Famke was recovered from the driveway nearby. Inside the residence, a double-wide manufactured home, police found the body of Sue Ann Famke, 41.
Anyone with information about this case is urged to contact the Klamath County Sheriff’s Department.
PART TWO
GUTTA CAVAT LAPIDEM, NON VI, SED SAEPE CADENDO
(A drop of water hollows a stone, not by force, but by continuously dripping)
—Ovid, Epistulae Ex Ponto, Book 3, no. 10, 1. 5
November 19 — 6:04 am
Whole Family Is Made of Butter
B ig Ed Gillespie preferred the direct approach. But he wasn’t the boss, and if the boss said stay off the radar, that’s the way he would play it. He wasn’t going to fuck this up. Not this time.
He awoke early the morning after he found the Bronsteins and took a shower, then left his motel room before anyone nearby was up and moving. Still dark out. He’d paid cash for the room and done nothing memorable during his brief stay, though a man big as a mule deer who spoke with an electronic larynx would likely stick in the mind no matter what he did. That couldn’t be helped, but his actions could. He’d selected a motel near the highway, a place that catered to nobodies passing through. He’d also insisted Myra stay somewhere else. Anywhere else, he didn’t care. He didn’t want anyone to be able to say, yeah, some dude with a fucked up throat was running around with a bony, hot-tempered tweaker.
He stopped to eat at the Jubitz truck stop on I-5, just another big, beefy man shucking off the night over a plate of eggs and sausage links. After breakfast he drove into town with the first gasp of morning rush hour, wipers set to the slowest interval. He got off at the Rose Quarter exit, followed MLK down to the Inn at theConvention Center. Hiram Spaneker was waiting for him on the corner at Holladay Street.
“Good flight?” One hand on the wheel, the other pressing the electrolarynx to his throat. He’d gotten good at doing things one-handed when he wanted to carry on a conversation.
Hiram dropped a nylon bag onto the back seat and slid into the passenger seat. “I suppose. I felt like a fucking sardine, but at least they gave me a bag of pretzels the size of my nut sack to keep me occupied.”
“What’s in the bag?”
“Stuff to occupy the boy.”
Big Ed wheezed in response. He continued down MLK and followed the loop under 99E onto
Eager made a mental note, satisfied. Skated. Later, he ran into Skin again. Jawed a little, talked about his deck, his wheels, his trucks. Eager, rarely a talker, found himself describing the transitions at Burnside and O’Bryant Square. Skin sat on the top step of his porch and listened, maybe even a little interested. Eager liked him.And the way he figured it, it was good to have a friend who was a cop. Especially once the house across the street went up for sale. Perfect house, safe house, even if Skin didn’t understand Eager’s interest. Luellen would love it, once she convinced that slob she had on the hook that he needed to buy it for her.
November 13
Police Investigate Two Deaths in Rural Klamath County
MIDLAND, OR: Police are investigating the deaths of Gene and Sue Ann Famke, discovered Tuesday at their home six miles northwest of Midland after dispatchers received a 9-1-1 call from a neighbor reporting screams and possible gun fire.
The couple appeared to be victims of a deadly assault, said Deputy Raelene Suggins of the Klamath County Sheriff’s Office. Gene Famke, 43, was found on the front lawn. A recently fired .38 caliber revolver registered to Famke was recovered from the driveway nearby. Inside the residence, a double-wide manufactured home, police found the body of Sue Ann Famke, 41.
Anyone with information about this case is urged to contact the Klamath County Sheriff’s Department.
PART TWO
GUTTA CAVAT LAPIDEM, NON VI, SED SAEPE CADENDO
(A drop of water hollows a stone, not by force, but by continuously dripping)
—Ovid, Epistulae Ex Ponto, Book 3, no. 10, 1. 5
November 19 — 6:04 am
Whole Family Is Made of Butter
B ig Ed Gillespie preferred the direct approach. But he wasn’t the boss, and if the boss said stay off the radar, that’s the way he would play it. He wasn’t going to fuck this up. Not this time.
He awoke early the morning after he found the Bronsteins and took a shower, then left his motel room before anyone nearby was up and moving. Still dark out. He’d paid cash for the room and done nothing memorable during his brief stay, though a man big as a mule deer who spoke with an electronic larynx would likely stick in the mind no matter what he did. That couldn’t be helped, but his actions could. He’d selected a motel near the highway, a place that catered to nobodies passing through. He’d also insisted Myra stay somewhere else. Anywhere else, he didn’t care. He didn’t want anyone to be able to say, yeah, some dude with a fucked up throat was running around with a bony, hot-tempered tweaker.
He stopped to eat at the Jubitz truck stop on I-5, just another big, beefy man shucking off the night over a plate of eggs and sausage links. After breakfast he drove into town with the first gasp of morning rush hour, wipers set to the slowest interval. He got off at the Rose Quarter exit, followed MLK down to the Inn at theConvention Center. Hiram Spaneker was waiting for him on the corner at Holladay Street.
“Good flight?” One hand on the wheel, the other pressing the electrolarynx to his throat. He’d gotten good at doing things one-handed when he wanted to carry on a conversation.
Hiram dropped a nylon bag onto the back seat and slid into the passenger seat. “I suppose. I felt like a fucking sardine, but at least they gave me a bag of pretzels the size of my nut sack to keep me occupied.”
“What’s in the bag?”
“Stuff to occupy the boy.”
Big Ed wheezed in response. He continued down MLK and followed the loop under 99E onto
Similar Books
![Wendy's Wild Wolves [Shy River Pack 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)](https://fs.ageofbook.com/527744/thumbs/152x264/wendys-wild-wolves-shy-river-pack-1-siren-publishing-menage-amour.png)
