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Part 1, A Vegas Trip (Suspense, Fiction)
January 4, 2010 - Burt Angeli
Kathy, wielding a baseball bat that would have made Albert Pujols proud, took a swing at her ex-husband Ken.
I had Ken’s arms pinned from behind. Ken ducked. I screamed.
But allow to me to backtrack a couple days on this Las Vegas experience.
Like many other Vegas vacations, it all started out in a home owned by my buddy Oslo. The sun streamed through my bedroom window, erasing any thoughts of a cold, gray Michigan December.
Kevin Canny, Daily Herald sportswriter, you’ve got it made. No more high school sports to worry about for a few days. Just rest, relax and raid the casinos.
To keep up my routine, first stop was a short walk to The Grind for coffee and newspapers. I threw on jeans, T-shirt, Copper Mine jacket and my favorite Trisha Yearwood cap for the short walk.
I nearly made it out the door when Oslo, sleeping in a living room chair, popped his head out of a blanket.
“Bring back a couple doughnuts with sprinkles. If they’re out, cupcakes will do.” I saluted and headed out of the quiet neighborhood to the nearby mall.
This walk doesn’t change a bit.
A couple of wiener dogs start yapping, early-morning walkers offer greetings and I hustle across to the street to my destination.
The Grind is in my sights but not before the O’Reilly Daycare Center. A good-looking blonde pulls a kid from the car and gives me a smile.
I smile back. Kevin, old boy, you’ve still got it.
“You and the kid back in the car,” roared a nearby voice. “And the same goes for you.”
“You! The one with the dumb smile and Trisha Yearwood hat.”
It was hard to say no with those words of endearment. Besides, he had a gun.
(BSA — To be continued)
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