Tommy, by any chance did he stumble upon an open window?

He’s good, Sal.” Always the family questions first. That was Sal Demenci’s style. He could be about to whack someone and he’d ask how the guy’s sister was doing in school.

Matt was the antidote to fear and trepidation. It was as if he’d become so acquainted with death that he could sit in its lap and ask it to tell him bedtime stories.

A vision flashed across Nick’s mind. It was the image of a lipstick kiss his wife left for him on the mirror that morning. It hung there like the single digit sum to the chalkboard-crammed...