Robert W. Walker’s DEAD ON Chapter NINETEEN The children had abandoned Paco for their mother instead; Nora hugged her little ones to …
Category: Book World
Book World: DEAD ON- Chapter Eighteen
Robert W. Walker’s DEAD ON Chapter SEVENTEEN Now is the time for all good men to come to the aide of their country, …
“From what JT told me, and from what I could see, the head and limbs were bound by yards and yards of heavy medical tape to tuck everything into the center at the torso. Hung up like a side of beef. Only thing keeping the flies off was the smoke.” Marcus had decided to leave no detail out; she needed to fear this man with every fiber of her being.
As he approached over the water in the small excursion craft, Rydell wondered how much to tell Katrina. He’d seen the house come into view and seeing her standing out on the deck overlooking the lake, he felt like the proverbial husband sneaking in after a night of carousing. Surely, he faced her wrath.
He also writes of how to cook fried hard crabs and about banquets on Saturday nightAfter the hotel closed it sat abandoned for many years as the State of Maryland fought its typically inept strategy at purchasing the property from owners who generally despised certain state officials.
During that time period, it came to look like this, stripped of anything of value by thieves and beaten by the weather. The long journey to destruction finally was reached when the transaction transferring about sixteen acres and the hotel was completed and the site of the hotel is now where the parking lot is located for the fishing pier.
DEAD ON By Robert W. Walker Chapter ELEVEN Rydell’s dropping in on crime scenes was nothing new, so showing up at this …
At the same time, back in Atlanta, Detective John ‘Atlanta Jack’ Thomas and his partner Stuart ‘Stewy’ Harriman stood staring at the dangling body of a fire-blackened man in what appeared a sack cloth or fishnet package. The horrendous crime had been called in when a citizen walking his dog noticed the “thing” dangling from the school yard flagpole about half way up.
“Talk about half mast,” said Harriman to Thomas.
“You mean half baked.”
While the victim’s hair, eyebrows, even eyes had given themselves over to the fire, his general features remained
Lately, Marcus felt the night terrors, the panic attacks, like an anvil on his chest, until the thoughts of suicide came on. Not tonight, not here. For one, he was too exhausted to think any thoughts, logical, illogical, or otherwise. Secondly, he felt something going on inside he hadn’t expected or felt for years—a growing sense of injury, pain, injustice that’d been meted out to him, alongside a renewed sense of purpose. A feeling he’d forgotten.
Rydell rummaged about his place for whatever he might need, but it was like being told a tornado or a raging fire or that damn wrecking crew down the street was coming straight for the place now and you’ve got minutes to evacuate. He must pack only what he could carry. In the end, he grabbed a couple of clips and his Glock, tossed a few additional guns into a briefcase, a change of clothes into a small bag, and decided that he’d be making a visit to the nearest Wal-Mart either on the way or in the morning. After all, if he and Mrs. Terry Mallory were to make it without a maniac on their tail, they must scoot and fast. As a result he didn’t give it any further thought. Instead, he took the service elevator down to the underground garage and rushed to his Jeep Cherokee at space 44 and found himself packing and waiting and pacing and alternately leaning against the car to wonder where in heavens was Dr. Mallory.