Category: A Trilogy.
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EVOLUTION OF A BOY, Part 1: Pony Dreams
Christmas morning in RoadRunner Estates didn’t sneak up quiet like snow in those Bing Crosby songs. It came in loud—paper tearing, cereal bowls clinking, the smell of cinnamon rolls and burnt toaster waffles drifting through the house. The aluminum tree spun slowly in the den, its color wheel flashing green and gold across the linoleum.…
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‘X’ MARKS THE SPOT, PART III: The Ride Home
Deputy Wade Elkins didn’t care about stolen cars. Not really. He cared about what came after. And when he saw the blue Cadillac Coupe DeVille parked crooked outside the Fiesta Mart in Sanderson, half full of gas and completely full of sin, he walked slow and steady past it. Then he saw the badge on…
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‘X’ MARKS THE SPOT, PART II: Tequila and Trouble
The first thing they did wrong was stop. It was past midnight when they pulled into a town with no name on the map, just a flickering sign that read VACANCY next to a peeling stucco box calling itself the Desert Star Motel. The Cadillac rumbled into the lot like it was embarrassed to be…
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‘X’ MARKS THE SPOT, PART I: “Don’t You Dare, Lacie-Mae”
It was 1978 in Fort Stockton, Texas, and the only thing hotter than the August sun was Buck Buchanan’s blood pressure. He stood at the edge of his porch, chewing a piece of straw like it owed him money, staring across the spread he’d built from cattle, sweat, and more luck than good sense. The…
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MAHOGANY FRAMED, Part III
Roy Temple didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he opened his eyes, the Polaroid was still on the nightstand, lipstick still laughing at him in cursive. “We see you too.” He smoked his cigarette down to the filter, then stood, shirt wrinkled, belt still halfway undone. His shoes were by the door—he didn’t remember taking…
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MAHOGANY FRAMED, Part II
Roy Temple didn’t care for mornings, especially the kind that smelled like regret in advance. But there it was—slid under the door of Room 4 at the Cattle Baron Hotel: a folded linen napkin with a note scribbled in lipstick red. “Grounds for Divorce. Noon. Come alone. — V.” He poured what was left of…
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MAHOGANY FRAMED, Part I
The 1949 Chrysler Town & Country Convertible rolled into Fort Stockton just past dawn, gliding low and lazy down Main like it belonged here—because it didn’t. The black paint was polished mirror-slick, gleaming even under a sky so dry it looked sunburned. Whitewalls wide as a Sunday hat hugged the road with gentlemanly grace, and…
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THREE NIGHTS AT THE END OF THE ROAD, Part 3: Last Rites
[Note to the Reader]This is the final chapter connecting The Blonde in Room #3 and A Stranger This Way Comes. If you haven’t read Chapters One and Two of Three Nights at the End of the Road, go do that first. The truth is in the ledgers, but the resolution’s in the ride. The dust…
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THREE NIGHTS AT THE END OF THE ROAD, PART 2: Unholy Alliances
[Note to the Reader] If you’re just now tuning in, you’re late—but not hopeless. This is the second chapter tying up the mysteries of The Blonde in Room #3 and A Stranger This Way Comes. If you skipped Chapter One, go read “Receipt of Sins” before the trail gets any colder or more twisted. The…
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THREE NIGHTS AT THE END OF THE ROAD, PART 1: Receipt of Sins
[Note to the Reader] This story threads together the final loose ends of The Blonde in Room #3 and A Stranger This Way Comes. If you haven’t read those, you’ll want to—if only to know who died, who lied, and what exactly got dumped in the stock tank off Highway 285. If you have read…