Chapter 1
Now, after a busy day that was quickly deepening into twilight, Lathe slumped bleary-eyed and unshaven in his squeaking chair. Tired to the bone, he looked down at his badge, and for the first time since he’d pinned it on, it felt heavy and bothersome, like a heavy weight around his neck. With quick movements, he grabbed it, yanked it off his chest, and threw it on his desk.
But since his day wasn’t over, he grabbed the only thing that would give him relief, and poured two fingers of hooch into a glass that he drank down in one gulp. As it burned its way down his throat he looked around at the dirty walls, dirty floors, and furniture that he’d found discarded on the streets. He was sick to death of all of it. Like anyone else, he grew tired of looking at his dumpy furnishings,
