Black Rain
A gust of cold October wind outside my window whips through the bare trees and stirs paper and debris on the sidewalk. As I stare out the window, I can't help but compare the frigid air to the souls of some people. Criminals. The ones who've committed heinous crimes and don't care about the trail of destruction their acts leave behind. I try not to let my cynical thoughts rule my mood and I turn my attention back to my cluttered desk.
The steam is still rising off my cup of coffee and, appreciatively, I take a sip. With my free hand, I rifle through the pile of papers on my desk for the telephone number of a recent informant, but I can't find it. I glance over at Vernon's desk, which sits directly across from me and see several piles of neatly stacked papers. Vernon Brown has been my partner for fifteen years here at the homicide department of the Kansas City, Misso ... read full excerpt from Black Rain ebook
