Chapter 3: Manufactured Madness – newsusdaily.com
Two days later, the knock on my apartment door was sharp, official. I opened it to find two men in ill-fitting suits flashing badges. “Municipal [more…]
Two days later, the knock on my apartment door was sharp, official. I opened it to find two men in ill-fitting suits flashing badges. “Municipal [more…]
The tinted windows of the black SUV reflected the muddy waters of the Passaic River, obscuring the world outside. Marcus DeLuca, Garra’s enforcer, had gripped [more…]
Part 1 Eight months later, Nora Krol passed away in her sleep. Her estate attorney called me into a paneled office on Ferry Street and [more…]
On the exact same late afternoon, as the storm retreated and the clouds began to break, painting the western sky in hues of bruised purple [more…]
Brendan O’Rourke’s eyes, as cold and grey as the storm-tossed sea outside, fixed on Greg Kincaid. Greg tried to speak, but only a desperate gurgle [more…]
The wind howled like a banshee off Cape Meares, whipping rain horizontally against the dilapidated boathouse walls. Inside, the air was cold and damp, smelling [more…]
The rain lashed against the windows of my small home, a rhythmic drumming that mirrored the frantic beat of my heart. Inside, the air was [more…]
The truth about Greg’s fraud, the $1,400 monthly siphon, had intensified my despair rather than alleviating it. The legal path was too slow, too convoluted. [more…]
Armed with the stack of forged wire slips, a tangible record of Greg’s deceit, I stormed back to his house. The sun was higher now, [more…]
“A phantom debt,” Marcus repeated the next morning, standing inside Silas Holloway’s cottage. The place was exactly as Silas had left it – meticulously clean, [more…]