Sublime

Mike went into the back, and Hoke quickly downed the second shot, finished the beer, and left the bar. He was depressed enough already without being hit for an $85 bar tab. Hoke didn’t drink all that much, but when he wanted a drink he hated to drink alone in his room. Fortunately, he had a bottle of El Presidente at home. This was one time when he

“Where’d you do your time?” Hoke asked Freddy. “Marianna or Raiford?” “Time? What time? What makes you think I did time?” Hoke shrugged. “The way you tucked into that flan, and because you ate it first, before tackling your sandwich. How long were you in Marianna?”

“Colombian drug families are like that, doc,” Henderson said. “They kill everyone in the family. They have to do it. If they hadn’t killed the boy, someday, as a man, he’d kill them. When can I talk to the woman at the hospital?”

put chains and a padlock around the quick-release handles to the back fire door exit. Hoke got the keys from the office, unlocked the chains, and put them into the storage room behind the unused kitchen. Later, when he made out his report and put it on Mr. Bennett’s desk, he reminded the manager that the fire marshal could close the hotel down for

shoats,

a madman who had come to them with better credentials than brains.

In the purple living room, two men, definitely Latins, with their hands and feet bound with copper wire, were face down on the floor. They had both been shot in the back of the head, and their faces were unrecognizable.