Burning Midnight

Cover Burning Midnight
Genres: Fiction
I was plucking lint off the surface of the brew when the telephone pulled me into the living room. It was Chata Pasada. I’d almost forgotten about her, about her brother Nesto, and about her husband Gerald, who hadn’t spoken to his father the police inspector in years. That soap opera had long since turned into an action melodrama.
“Can you come out?” she asked. “Ernesto has something to tell you.”
“I’m guessing it’s something he can’t say over the phone.”
“I’d prefer it that way.”
I said I’d b
...e there in a half hour and drained my cup, lint and all.
The drive took a little longer. Snow was falling in big floppy flakes that clung to the windshield like sodden doilies until the wipers slung them aside; they turned the streets to grease and the traffic reports on the radio into breathless commentary on piled-up cars and jackknifed semis. I kept off the expressways, but the plows and salt trucks were out and I poked along behind every last one of them.
Alderdyce’s son, Jerry, answered the door.
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