A.G.E's Joint

 The dull winter sun blinds me as I drive, the metallic sky outside turning milk-white. Another storm is coming. I had learned this fact from an old Indian scout I met up in the hills after I left home. The knowledge had served me well over the years. A talking head on the radio was trying to distill the latest disaster into sound bites, distracting the rubes from reality. It's all about the distraction. Mulling over the interview, I knew Williams was playing coy. Normal operating procedure at this stage in a murder investigation. It's all a big poker game where the Cops have most of the cards. And whatever they are missing is drawn from the deck of witnesses using a combination of fake personal connection and distraction. Williams tried it with his question about Angie and I just told the truth and it put an end to that line of thought. I admit I miss her from time to time. Our relationship was a magical mystery tour; two scarred souls touching, trying to find the...

  The Sheriff’s office looked the same, a hideous mass of concrete poured on the hillside overlooking Highway 129. A line of windows across the top resembled all-seeing eyes. Yes, Citizen. You ARE under surveillance. Gaudi himself would have loved it. I wondered how much money changed hands to get the monstrosity approved. It makes one appreciate nice buildings. Parking the car, I text my arrival. The reply came back: “I’ll meet you at the desk.” I put the gun in its lockbox and got out. Its too pretty out here to be talking to a cop. But talk I must. I pass a couple lying  head to head  on a  bench  outside the front door, lost in their  phones.  Modern romance, too busy to actually talk to each other. The last time I was here it was for a interview about a boat that was jacked in Naked Lady Cove. I was nowhere near it, but the owner thought I was involved since I knew Jerry Herrington. I was in the salvage business back and got lots of referrals from...