“There it was, the odor that greeted Homan’s every entry: cigarettes, leather, sweat, coffee. How Beautiful Girl would hate this mix of smells. This being morning—a crisp morning in a flat land of shrubs and grass—there were doughnut smells, too, making his belly clench with hunger. He punched himself on the thigh as he sat, furious. Five times in police cars! Five times you not watchful or got hunger too bad for staying careful! Now here you go again. He folded his arms hard over his chest and ...stared at the chicken wire separating the back from the front, glimpsing his reflection in the rearview mirror. What a sight. Hair like an unsheared sheep, skin grimy, shirt mottled with food and dirt and worry, eyes wild. He shook his head in disgust. Maybe it was just as well Beautiful Girl was with him only in his mind. He tried calming himself as the car rolled forward. He’d done what he could, same as the other times. He’d raised his hands and even tried what he’d promised himself he’d never do again once he got to the Snare—he’d dared using his voice.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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