What happened to the perp?” “Perp?” “The piece of crap who tried to kill my wife. Where is he now?” There was a pause, then, “Well, uh, you see, the guy—he’s in the parking lot right now.” “What’s he doing there? Is he being arrested?” “Actually, he’s resting. As a matter of fact, he’s going to be resting for a really long time.” Nick understood the term. “Tommy, by any chance did he stumble upon an open window?

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 equation of his life.

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.