Shark's Tooth

“So, did Chow do it alone, or did the star get in on it.”

“Don’t know nothing yet,” said Blackbeard.

“C’mon, you know Chow’s dirty.”

“I know the difference between what I know and what I believe.”

Terry finished his coffee and wadded up the cup.  “I hope to hell this kid’s got something for us.  So far, Walton County’s got nothing from the car or the house.  Car’s been cleaned, but Chow says he cleaned up vomit, not blood.  News has already picked up the story.  We’re hanging a lot on this kid.”  He paused but Blackbeard said nothing.  Blackbeard was senior, and local.  This would be his if it turned to crap.  Terry said, “So tell me about this kid.”

“Sad story, but a common one.  Local boy.  Went off to one of those useless little wars in a useless part of the world.  Got shot up bad, came back barely functional in the head.  Sleeps on the streets somewhere, collects his disability, makes a few bucks raking the beach.  Just wants to be left alone, won’t talk about nothing but the old days and how good it used to be.  I took him out fishing a couple of times, but I think he mostly lives inside his own head these days.  If we don’t catch him here early, we’ll never find him.  Might be a dead end; maybe he saw something.”





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