Tate’s Quandary
Chapter 1
“That dude…” The cab driver pointed to a man standing on the island between the east and westbound lanes of traffic, “needs to get off his ass and get a job.”
Tate glanced at the man in question. He was probably in his mid-thirties, although it was hard to tell for certain because his long hair and scruffy beard hid most of his face. Strangely enough, there was something about him that seemed familiar. Probably because he looks like half the panhandlers hanging around the city, Tate decided.
“Jobs aren’t that easy to find these days,” Tate replied to the cabbie’s comment.
“For damned sure not when someone looks like him,” the driver muttered caustically.
As the cab moved past the man, Tate saw he was holding a sign of some sort, facing them. Taking a closer
