Chapter One
Peter Keegan was already on edge, of course, and anxious to
get inside. But even so, he should have noticed that it wasn't
only the garage door opener that wasn't working.
He punched the button half a dozen times, then gave up
and pulled around to the front of the house. He'd have to park
on the street, which he hadn't done since the night he moved
in, two years ago. The next morning he'd found the window
smashed and his new sophisticated sound system, an unexpected
gift from his students when he'd left teaching, torn out
of the dashboard. He'd never replaced it. He'd sold his car, in
fact, taking cabs mostly now, or borrowing one of the other
guys' cars on occasion, like tonight.
Not quite midnight now, with the bright lights of Old
Town—that stretch of North Wells Street with its odd mix of
chic restaurants and dingy bars, upscale shops and pornographic
bookstores—just a few short blocks away. But here,
where he lived, the street was dark and deserted, and even the
tall lights at each end of the block seemed strangely dim and
distant. He stood beside the car, shivering, struggling with the
buttons of his rain coat. The cold March wind came ... read full excerpt from A Beer at a Bawdy House ebook
