Oliver reached Scappoose as he had predicted at song nineteen on the Hit Parade. As he pulled onto Main Street, a familiar tug began to pull at him. He had not consumed any methamphetamine since he and Cyllvia had used the Blue in the early morning hours. The itching in his arm, and the gnawing need for a fix began to concern him. He ignored it for as long as it took to spy a liquor store next to the Columbia County courthouse. He pulled over to buy a bottle of relief from the bodily craving for a hit of a little something to keep him going. Oliver took a swig from the bottle to wet his whistle, and continued north out of town until he saw the sign for Salmonberry Road. He took the turn on the gravel road. He knew the target residence was up ahead a mile. The patchy surface of the
