TWENTY-FOURTrick Delgado’s latest headache had finally taken flight, likely in search of another soul to torture. It felt like a living entity come to earth for the sole purpose of burrowing deep into his brain. He wondered how many others were on its hit list. He kissed Ingrid good bye, stopped into the market and picked up a few supplies for his mother, and drove to her home. He felt more optimistic than he had in a long time and he wasn’t going to let her get to him. Not today. She’d been calling him bad as far back as he could remember. Even when he was a little boy. And he knew he’d never been bad, never. Not even when she whacked him for no reason at all. By the time she grabbed the cans of cat food he had already walked out the door and headed for work.
The cops sat in their chairs
