Chapter 8
Derek looked around an apartment so small it made his in New Orleans look like a mansion. There was one room, furnished with a bed, a table, a sofa, and a nook for a tiny kitchen. The bathroom was communal, at the end of the hallway. The only window looked out on a vacant lot with a manufacturing plant on the far side. He knew, because he’d walked past them on his way from the bus stop, that there was a supply company, a second-rate insurance agency, and a radiator shop on the same block, as well as a temp agency.
Home sweet home. He grimaced when he saw a bug of the roach kind skitter under the kitchen cupboard. I even have a pet, probably more of them than I want.
He opened his battered suitcase, putting most of his clothes, other than one pair of decent slacks and three shi
