Chapter 18: Myer Colt
August 20, 20—
2:39 P.M.
I suffered a nauseating headache with some minor vomiting, but wouldn’t stop working on the Evan Sting case. The heated pain that rushed through my head reminded me of the many hangovers I had gained while be a drunk. Some things were hard to forget, and those symptoms of my alcoholism were proof that my past could not be erased or forgotten.
As temple-pounding whips of ache rushed through my head I studied the very few notes on Myer Colt again: 22, son of Vince and Pauline, Colt Branding. Wisecracker, immature, jockish. Employed at his daddy’s business.
The information on the young man was minimal but a good start. My intentions were to find out as much as I could on him, piecing him into the murder of Evan Sting. A strong hunch itched a
