He Thought Tuesdays Were Pottery, Now He Begs Me Home novel · Chapter 18 of 24
Chapter 18: The Pier
I told Cliff everything in his truck in the Metro garage, in twelve sentences, with my phone propped on the dashboard.
He listened to all of it without interrupting.
"You're not going alone," he said.
"He said alone."
"He's a thief who froze forty-one trucks of insulin," Cliff said. "I'm not letting you walk out on a pier."
"Then park at the end of the lot and stay in the cab. If he sees you, he doesn't talk."
"Joss," he said.
"I'll be recording. It's Ohio, one person has to consent, and I'm the one."
He looked at the phone and then at me.
"I'll stay in the cab," he said, under protest. "I'll count to a hundred. If you're not waving by then, I'm coming."
"Don't count too fast."
Edgewater was almost empty at six.
The sun was nearly down over Lake Erie, and the wind off the water was bitter.
A thin man in a camel coat stood at the end of the pier, with his back to the skyline and his collar turned up.
He turned when he heard my boots.
"There she is," Preston said. "The wizard behind the curtain."
The rest of this chapter is part of the paid portion of the series. Chapters 1–12 of He Thought Tuesdays Were Pottery, Now He Begs Me Home are free to read — start from the beginning, then unlock the rest with coins in the app.
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