Three Ways to Die
Three Ways to Die
“He didn't really like the bagels in this place much. The only way he could eat them was to smother them with anything that had some flavor, which is why he ordered a bagel that was covered with cheddar cheese to start with. What Bud Flanek liked was the hot, heavy, onionized air that filled the tiny shop all winter long.
Every morning, he left his city-owned Crown Vic idling at the curb, and while the worthless heater struggled to warm the icy, cracked-vinyl interior of the car, ate his breakfast at one of the chipped linoleum tables. Just for the heat and the smell.
It was pathetic, Bud knew that. But it wasn't like he was squandering any great promise. By his own reckoning, he wasn't much of a cop and even less of a man.
Bud became a cop because the perky recruitment officer who visited his community college had the best pair of breasts he'd ever seen. He thought he might get laid if he signed up and showed some enthusiasm.
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