Dead-Reckoning_clean
Dead ReckoningThe office smelled of wet cardboard and cheap whiskey, which was appropriate because that was what my life had become—a mixture of things that had been good for nothing and things that were bad for everything. I was Sam Greer, thirty-five years old, former Marine, current professional disappointment. I had a .38 Special in the drawer, a bottle of rotgut on the shelf, and a case...
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