A short story of bad people, murder, mystery, and horror.
Hank stared through the windshield at the snow. His wipers shoved fat clumps. Where they didn’t reach, the slush piled two inches thick. Hank squinted and leaned forward over the steering wheel. The light from the bar’s sign barely came through.
He checked the clock. He didn’t know why. It didn’t matter what time it was. It…