Gunshot in the Cold Rain
Los Angeles, 1947 The rain in Los Angeles didn't wash things clean. It just made the dirt slicker. Jack Kwaning knew this the way he knew his own name—through years of standing in it, watching it turn the city's grime into something almost beautiful, if you didn't mind that the beauty was just dirt doing its dirty work in a new key. He was sitting in his car outside a house on Sunset Boulevard,...
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