Lenny by B.R. Stateham Genre: Mystery
Lenny has stared death in the face many times, from the jungles of Thailand & Vietnam to the mountain passes of Afghanistan. Now after a career of service he’s back in his hometown of Ballard, Texas looking for what comes next. Sheriff Greene knows an asset when he sees one and it’s not long before he signs Lenny up as his new deputy in the fight against the narcotics cartel that has over-run their quiet border town.20 years in the army have taught Lenny never to underestimate the things people are capable of but as the bullets begin to fly and the casualties begin to mount it’s just possible that his investigation may bring him closer to home than he ever expected. Praise for B.R. Stateham “Cooler than a fridge full of beer…”“ This is modern noir at its very best…” “B.R. Stateham is at the top of his game right now…” “Lenny may be the best thing B.R. Stateham has ever written, and as readers of his work will know, that’s quite a high bar to hit.” “B.R. Stateham has created an action packed tale – another winner from Fahrenheit Thirteen…” Add to GoodreadsAmazon * Fahrenheit Press
B.R. Stateham is a fourteen-year-old boy trapped in a seventy-year-old body. But his enthusiasm and boyish delight in anything mysterious and/or unknown continue. Writing novels, especially detectives, is just the avenue of escape which keeps the author’s mind sharp and inquisitive. He’s published a ton of short stories in online magazines like Crooked, Darkest Before the Dawn, Abandoned Towers, Pulp Metal Magazine, Suspense Magazine, Spinetingler Magazine, Near to The Knuckle, A Twist of Noir, Angie’s Diary, Power Burn Flash, and Eastern Standard Crime. He writes both detective/mysteries, as well as science-fiction and fantasy. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Amazon * Goodreads
Gazing down the almost empty highway toward town he swept a hand
over his lips and jawline a second time and squinted his eyes. Coming down
the road in the growing twilight was a pickup truck. A Dodge pickup truck.
As it approached he thought about throwing up a thumb and hitching a
ride. Maybe it was headed for Amarillo. Maybe it was time to take the
sheriff’s advice. Maybe it was time to leave Ballard for good.
Funny how shit happens. How half-baked plans get tossed out the
window.
The brown Dodge slowed and swerved toward him. For a moment he
was bathed in low beams before the pickup slid to a stop a couple of feet in
front of him. Standing there, Lenny watched the passenger side front door
window slide down. In the semi-light he had to step closer to see who was
sitting behind the wheel.
“Hello, cuz.”
A voice he recognized. Even after all these long years away.
“Hello, Miguel. Good to see you.”
Miguel Luiz Sanchez. His mother’s sister’s oldest son. Same age as he
was. The oldest of four boys and three sisters. But that was twenty years
ago. He had no idea who was alive today. Who was dead.
“Come on,” Miguel grunted, waving a hand for Lenny to open the door
and get in.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Been in town for two weeks, cuz. Getting drunk and getting into fights.
The whole family knows you’re back in town. Time to clean up. Dry out.
Time to go home.”
Time to go home. Like a hammer blow right between his eyes. Time to
go home. Home? Here in Ballard? After all these years? After what
happened in the past?
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